#shifted into something More. they have a sort of brothers-in-arms sort of thing coming out of the cage except it's brothers-in-prison. and i

[adammilligan]

jabel talking about how he genuinely loved playing michael and adam together and the ideas that he brought regarding them in 15x08 weren’t just his own but also the ideas of the fans because of all the time he spent doing cons where people would ask him about what he thought michael and adam were getting up to in the cage and how that sort of fed into how he portrayed them when he finally came back to the show. i love that

[reareaotaku]

I Can't Lose You

Summary: After almost losing you, Five goes through extreme measures to make sure you're safe Pairings: Yandere! Five Hargreeves x Reader Tw/Cw: Protective Five, Open-ending

It all happened so fast, even for Five. If he had seen it coming, he would have gotten you out of there, but he wasn't expecting those stupid white-haired brothers to show up. When you had been shot, thankfully nowhere vital, he nearly lost it. Past Five would have killed them, but you were his priority, so he made sure to get you out of there.

"Oh, god- Fuck, are you okay?" It's not a real question, just something to bring Five some sort of comfort. He rips off sleeves, before pushing the fabric on your wound, hoping to control the blood, instead of having his hands get bloody trying.

"Five," You grab his bicep, causing him to look up at you. "I'm fine."

He frowns, letting go of the make-shift sleeve bandage he had made. He lifts up his blood-covered hands, "Fine? You're bleeding out because you were shot. What the fuck were you thinking?" He's angry and he knows he shouldn't direct it at you, but he hates the feeling of worry, guilt, and fear you made him feel.

"What was *I* thinking? What do you mean WHAT WAS I THINKING?! I didn't shoot MYSELF!"

He groans, putting his hands back on the wound. He doesn't respond to your words, frustrating you.

"Well?"

He looks up at you, his eyes down casted and a frown overtaking his face. He sighs, pushing a hand through his hair, "I was just..." He pulls his hands down his face, "Forget it- It's nothing. Don't worry about what I said."

You were a little taken aback, because if there's one thing about Five, it's that he stuck by what he said.

---

You awoke in a bed, looking around the strange room. You were alone and your wound was patched up. You click your tongue, before sitting up and yawning while rubbing the side of your face. You move to the side of the bed, finally standing off, before holding the side of your stomach when a sharp pain shoots through you.

You hear the click of the door and quickly look towards it. It was Five and he had a muffin- or at least what looked like a muffin.

He looks up at you, before quickly coming over to you and making you sit back down, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Your brows scrunch as you shrug, "I was just going to walk and move a little-"

"No, just stay here. You're safe here."

You roll your eyes, before crossing your arms. Why was he being like this? He was acting like you were a porcelain doll that would break if grabbed to hard.

He ignores your pouting before handing you the muffin. "Here, I got you something to eat. And drink the water," He gestures to a water bottle that was on the nightstand, "You lost a lot of blood. You're going to have to be more careful, because I don't want to bandage you up again." He looks up at you before an annoyed look overtakes his face, "Do you know how embarrassing and hard it was to explain when they asked why you didn't have a shirt on and my hands all over you while you were unconscious?"

"What happened to them?"

"Who- The Swedes?" He tilts his head, before looking at your covered wound, "They left after you were shot. I think they think you're dead."

"Why?"

"Because they're idiots," He shakes his head like it was the most obvious answer. "Though, that's good for us. If they think you're dead, they won't come after you and you'll be safe."

"Sounds like you're telling me to stay inside to be 'safe'." You joke but by the way Five looked back up at you it wasn't a joke. You quickly stand up, "You're kidding- I'm not staying here-"

He stands up, pushing you back down on the bed, "Yes you are. You're safe here- This is were you're staying and I don't care if that upsets you."

"You can't control me!" You yell at him, which causes his face to scrunch up.

"So, you think. You're not leaving my sight or out of where I know you are."

"So you think locking me up will keep me safe?"

"Yes!"

"Why! It was one time!"

He turns away from you, holding his face in his hands. He couldn't talk to you. Not now. He was to caught up and he'd say something he'd regret.

"What are you so afraid of?"

He finally breaks and turns towards you, "Because I can't lose you! You almost died! Okay, are you happy?! Fuck," His nails dig into his scalp and he looks away from you. He rubs his temple before sighing, "I don't... know what I'd if I lost you and.... Well, for the first time in my life, I was scared."

You're surprised by his confession, especially since he never told you his feelings before.

"Oh."

"Oh? That's it?" He looks back at you surprised.

You shake your head, "I'm just surprised."

"Yeah," He sits on the edge of the bed, before fiddling with your hand, "You know, when you were bleeding out it was awful." You looked at your hands that were now intertwined, "I know I don't say it, but I do care about you and I just want you to be safe."

"Yeah, I know, but I can defend myself. There's nothing for you to be worried about."

"Yeah, I know... But I can't help it."

"Yeah, you do worry a lot, but I promise nothing bad's going to happen."

[thursdaygxrls]

Seeing Her

summary - george might (maybe) have a small crush.

pairing - george weasley x fem!bookworm!reader

disclaimer - i don't own any harry potter property. this is unedited because i wasn't in the mood. i don’t own the gif fr.

warnings - just fluff. maybe a little ooc??

He never gave much thought to how full his mind had grown of her until McGonagall struck her desk with her palms. That noise - the searing slap of flesh meeting oak - knocked a sudden realization into the bubbling pot of his mind.

"I do hope you boys are satisfied with yourselves," the older woman chastised through permanently pursed lips, "Professor Flitwick's hair is green!"

"Not purple?" Fred spoke up from next to him.

"This is no laughing matter. You boys are lucky the Professor has a sense of humor. If it were Snape or me in his position, I hope you realize the consequences would be more drastic than detention." She replied. This conversation had fallen upon George's deaf ears, though; his thoughts were much more full of things other than detention:

It was like a dream the first time he saw her - and not just because he had a black eye. He'd just left quidditch practice (or rather, was removed after he and Fred had gotten into a small tussle with the Slytherin bludgers who didn't understand Gryffindor booked the field for practice) when he passed the courtyard. Eye swelling with the beginnings of a bruise, he noticed a hazy glint coming from a line of trees. He could see her; she was only a few meters away, rolling some sort of ring or watch around in a way that caught the light of the fading sun. There was a book in her hands, something with a bright, poppy color, that hinted at it being a pulpy mystery or romance. What caught him the most, though, was her expression; her brows were creased, eyes set in concentration, lips downturned into a frown. Whatever she was reading was pissing her off, and for some reason, the sight of this unknown girl becoming increasingly annoyed at her imaginary tale made his mouth curl into a smile.

George returned to his dorm with that same smile. Of course, though, he'd forgotten about the girl within the hour and found himself following the rinse-and-repeat routine of a mischief-less night. He'd still forgotten when he woke. And when he brushed his teeth. And when he messily knotted his tie.

The funny thing about her was her persistence. He had not even taken a step down the ever-shifting staircase when he saw her. She was far below him and growing farther with every second, but there she was, pulpy fiction novel tucked under her arm. This time, her face was adorned with a grin as she followed (who George could only assume was) her friend towards the Great Hall. This sight caught the boy off guard for long enough that he nearly tripped over his feet when the steps relocated to the right.

George was even more aghast to learn that she was in his potions class. He'd just set down his books next to Fred when an invisible force compelled him to turn around. Following its lead, he found the mystery he'd yet to even consider mysterious seated only three tables away. His eyebrows raised in small bout of surprise as he noticed the the cover of her novel had changed to reveal a more gothic image of a knotted tree: Wuthering Heights. He hadn't cared much to track her progress on the pulp book, but it was still a small shock to see her ready to take on another story. Again, he smiled, noting the title of the new book.

"What'cha looking at?" Fred asked him, interrupting his gaze.

"Nothing," he replied, turning away, "Trying to view things from my purple perspective." Fred let out a low chuckle, his bruised cheek raising as he matched his brother's grin.

It wasn't as if George was seeking her out or anything - actually, it was as though she were seeking him. He saw her everywhere, from breakfast, to the halls, to classes, to the courtyard. He even dreamed of her a few times - nothing special, just the image of her resting along the hazy vignettes of his mind. Throughout all this, he had taken a subconscious interest. She ate away at muggle books faster than he'd ever seen anyone do; she loved cheesy and classic romance alike, and no title was safe from her grasp; it was painful to watch her brows knot and furrow as she became increasingly frustrated with what she was reading; when she was around her friends, her eyes lit up like her ring hitting the sunlight. These were easy things to notice, though. It wasn't hard to see how her hands moved wildly as she explained some sort of crazy story to those at her table in the Great Hall. It was so easy, in fact, that George's studies moved from potions to her every time the class began.

Though George had given plenty of thought to her, he hadn't realized just how much thought he'd donated. At least, not while he and Fred were plotting revenge. Though the bruises on the twins' faces healed over a month or so, their egos had yet to heal. They'd planned their revenge perfectly. The Slytherins who'd given them the shiners left dinner around the same time each night. The twins concocted an elixir that, with just one small drop on a person's head, would dye their hair for days. They'd positioned themselves on a balcony above the route which the Slytherins normally took. It was perfect - but, it wasn't. George took in the hall below him, scanning for the unsuspecting students, when his eyes caught something else. Her.

She was in the hall alone, book in hand, but unopened. It was odd. Normally, if she was by herself, she'd be focused intently on a book. But she wasn't. She was gently thumbing the pages of the novel, looking around the hall inquisitively. Was she waiting for someone? Or maybe she was-

Her eyes met his. His eyes met hers.

Not once in the weeks he'd taken up his sudden interest had she actually looked at him. And now she was. No - she wasn't just looking at him, she was seeing him, and with those eyes. They were so much brighter when they met you head-on - deeper, too. They held indescribable emotions. Curiosity? Maybe - he didn't know, nor did he really care to, because for five seconds, they saw each other. Then, George dropped his vile of elixir right onto Flitwick's head.

"Anything interesting going on up there?" Fred poked George's head. He hadn't even realized they'd already left McGonagall's office.

"Huh?" He mumbled, flicking his eyes around at his surroundings.

"She's got you bloody whipped, eh?" Fred showed off a toothy grin.

"What? Who?" George nearly scoffed at this sudden accusation.

"The girl you've been ogling at in potions. Your neck is gonna get stuck if you keep turning to look at her." He laughed. George scoffed, shoving into his brother.

"Just ask her to go to Hogsmeade with you. Take her to the Leaky Cauldron, get in a quick snog, and get over it already." At Fred's words, George let out a dry laugh and shook his head.

"Fred, you're mental." He let out a breathy chuckle.

"Nothing else? That's all?" Fred cocked his head, "She must've got'cha good. Maybe a couple quick snogs'll do it."

It was going to take more than a snog or two to get this off his mind now. He didn't even know her name - it was nothing. Just a couple stolen glances. But Fred noticed. When the hell did Fred notice anything? Maybe more people noticed. Maybe she noticed. George squeezed his eyes tight as he lay in bed that night - this strange, twisting anxiety had overtaken him and was turning his entire body inside out. Did he want her to notice?

George decided, as he woke up, that whatever it was he was dealing with, he had to get it over with. Before he did that, though, he would have to start his day. Pushing his toothbrush past his lips, all he could think about was her smile, or the way she frowned, or her lips pressed into a line every time she concentrated. When he tied his tie, his thoughts traveled to her wide eyes, full of laughter. He didn't even know her name.

He had a plan. He was going to talk to her - actually talk to her. He'd show up to potions early, ask her about her book, finally figure out her name. He was so focused on his preparations that when he began to descend the stairs, he didn't notice the oncoming pedestrian traffic, and - boom.

George stumbled back, quickly recovering from whoever he'd knocked into. The recipient of his force, though, wasn't as lucky: they ended up straight on their arse.

"Sorry!" He spoke quickly, "Didn't realize the stairs move." His smile (which had formed only a moment ago) faded entirely when he realized who he bumped into. Her. It was her, and she was early for breakfast.

"They tend to that," she replied, picking herself up. If he were a bit more suave, he might've helped her to her feet. Instead, he watched her stand, almost awe-struck by her movements. His gaze moved bashfully, eventually landing on the book that fallen to the floor along with her.

"Your book." He motioned to it quickly. In an attempt to make up for his lack of courtesy in helping her to her feet, he dove for the novel. And so did she. Their foreheads met with another smack, and they separated themselves before either could retrieve the object.

"Two for two, huh?" She let out a small laugh as she rubbed her head.

"Sorry," he repeated with sincerity as he successfully acquired her book from the floor. Once again, they were looking at each other. Seeing each other. George's lips parted.

"I'm George," he spoke, losing every ounce of confidence he normally possessed.

"I'm Y/N," she replied, "Could I have my book back?" George acquiesced almost immediately. He flashed a small smile that she quickly returned. Then, as the steps shifted once more, she began to walk away.

"See you in potions, George!" She called in an earnest tone. George grinned to himself. It was, after all, somewhat of a success. Even if he did - did she just say 'see you in potions'?

[saltandburnheathens]

Good morning Miss Winnie. (Part II)

Part I

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader.

Rating: Gen.

Summary:

Two weeks after Dean became a father, it's time to jump back on the hunting horse. But he's hesitant.

Notes: Non-canon, no time line. And I don't ever want kids. But I just became an aunt and I sort of need to get this out of my system! Short and I'm not promising that I won't continue this. Who knows really. Finally this was written after I'd taken my usual nightly gummy.

“Bonnie?” 

You shot Dean a look across the kitchen. He was cooking eggs on the stove while you were nursing. Castiel was the only other member of the bunker awake at six a.m. and, fortunately, occupied the library. It wasn’t that you cared about the other men seeing you breastfeeding, it was how they reacted to it. Both became very awkward and outwardly attempted to look anywhere but at your breasts.

“You can’t accept Winnie, but you pick Bonnie?” 

Dean shrugged. 

“I was just thinking if we had a boy we could call him Clyde. We’d have our own little gang.” 

“Firstly, I’m not doing this again. And secondly, Bonnie and Clyde were felons.”

“What do you mean ‘you’re not doing this again?’ Don’t most women go crazy for more kids? They smell the baby's head and some hoo-doo helps them forget about the pain and bodily fluids.” 

“Yeah, well. You try being in labour for damn near forty eight hours and shitting yourself in a room full of people. Including the man you love. Then come back and tell me you’ve forgotten about it and wanna do it all over again.” 

“Point taken.” Dean laughed, plating up eggs and bacon for them both, “And you didn’t shit yourself by the way.”

“I didn’t?”

“I think I’d remember.”

You smiled at the plate of food and carefully lifted the baby from your breast. She’d long since stopped feeding and was instead squirming, ready to be winded. 

“I can take it from here.” Dean reached down and lifted the little girl up into his arms. He held her upright against his chest and began rubbing circles into her small back, “There we go kiddo. Get it up.” 

“Be careful.” You warned. 

“I’m not taking any chances.” Dean gestured to the polka-dot muslin cloth on his shoulder. 

You watched as he gently walked your daughter around the kitchen, her little body squirming while he cooed into her ear. She made several little squeaking noises, threatening to cry, only to be brought back to earth by her father’s tender voice. 

“Come on now, no tears. I’ve got you.” 

Your eyes locked with Dean’s for a moment, both reflecting a soft smile. He was proving to be an excellent father, not that you’d doubted him for a second. But Sam had. He’d been very vocal about Dean knowing nothing about babies and how, despite the fact that he was happy for you both, he thought this whole ‘raising a family thing’ was a bad idea.

“You guys are great together! But I don’t think this is the right environment for a kid.”  Or something along the same bullshit. 

Dean had been adamant about her though. He damn near refused to speak to Sam until he stopped with his questions and logical answers. Sure you both had been sceptical about bringing a child into this life, but neither of you had actively prevented it. If it happened, it happened. 

Speaking of the devil. Sam groaned and stretched his arms above his head, stumbling into the kitchen. He dug the palm of his hands into his eyes, drawing them down his face afterwards. 

“Morning. Coffee’s in the pot.” Dean said, his voice shifting from Dad to brother by just an octave. 

Sam poured himself a hefty mug before offering more to the kitchen. You declined but insisted that he fill up Deans. 

“He’ll need the caffeine for your hunt.” 

“Oh so you’re back on the job then?” Sam questioned, his eyebrows rising. 

Dean’s brow furrowed as he shifted the little one on his chest. He searched her face, the cogs visibly turning in his head. 

“I’ll get back to you on that one.” 

“What? I thought you’d be happy to get back on the horse.” You’d assumed that after being out of work for almost two weeks that Dean would be craving a hunt, but his face said otherwise. 

“Yeah. I mean I am. But she - “ 

“She’ll be right here when you get back.” You interrupted, “It’s a simple in and out job. Right Sam?” 

“Sure. Run of the mill ghost in the attic for some old friend’s of Bobby’s.” Sam took a lengthy sip of his coffee, “And it pays too.” 

“See? And we could use the cash for Winnie.” 

Sam scoffed, barely holding onto the coffee in his mouth. He looked between you both and then to his niece. 

“Winnie?”

“Short for Winchester but not her name. Just a placeholder until we find the perfect one.” You inform, “But what’s so wrong with Winnie anyway? It’s a perfectly acceptable name.” 

“Nothing wrong with it at all. It’s just not what I pictured you both to come up with.” 

“Fortunately it’s not.” Dean added, shifting the baby from one arm to the other as she reached up with her little hands, “As for the hunt, I’m not sure.”

He offered a finger for her hand to close around, eyes never leaving her. the features on his face softened, lips almost pulling downwards into a frown. 

You exchanged a knowing look with Sam. 

“If this is about Win- her- you don’t need to worry. I can cope fine on my own for one night.” You offered

“Yeah but what if it isn’t just one evening?” Dean answered, his voice doing nothing to disguise the concern he was feeling. 

“It’s only a few towns over. We’ll be home by four am - ” 

“But what if something goes wrong? Huh? Then what? I’ve left my wife without a husband, my little girl without a father. And -” 

You jumped to your feet at the distress in his voice and rushed to loop an arm around his middle.  

“Don’t say that. It’s a run of the mill job, something you guys have done one thousand times over. Nothin’ bad is gonna happen other than a few bruises.” You laid your head on his shoulder, eyes coming to settle on the little lady in his arms, “I can deal with those. And she’ll not know any different.” 

With a deep sigh, Dean kissed you gently on the head. It was an uncharacteristic display of affection, especially in front of his brother, but you hadn’t the heart to react. You knew he was feeling vulnerable, that much was clear in his reaction, and to draw attention to it would only make things worse. Instead you settled against him and allowed his warmth and the soothing sounds of your baby to still your own anxiety. 

You’d be lying if you didn’t admit that some part of you was fearful of your husband walking out of the bunker and never coming home. Hunting was a dire job, one which had claimed the life of many of your comrades. Dean may be an experienced hunter, renowned in his own right, but he certainly wasn’t immune to unfortunate outcomes. That much had been proven time and time again. 

Lost in thought, the only sounds in the kitchen were the gentle fussing of your daughter and the whirring of the circulation fans. 

Finally Castiel broke the silence with his sudden entrance. He appeared in a flurry of feathers, one coming to land on the table top by your abandoned coffee cup. 

“We have doors, Cas. Use ‘em.” Dean warned, pulling your daughter closer to his chest as she began to fuss. 

“I’m sorry, Dean. It’s a force of habit.” Castiel answered, taking a seat next to Sam, “I startled her.” 

“You think?!” 

You moved to take the baby from Dean but he shook his head, whispering a small ‘I got this’ back to you as he started to rock her from side to side. But it was no good, her cries grew louder and more furious. You began to wonder how those big sounds could even come from such a small creature. 

Before you could offer your help again Castiel brushed past you. 

“I didn’t mean to scare her.” He said, coming to stand in front of Dean “Is there anything I can do?” 

“Here” to your surprise, Dean held your daughter out towards the angel, “You can settle her down while I grab her diaper bag.” 

You lean in and quickly sniff.  

“I don’t think she needs changed, D.”

“Well I don’t know what else to do. She -” 

Castiel reached forward and lifted the infant from Dean. He brought her to settle in the crook of his arm, offering up his fingers for her to grab at. Gradually she began to quiet, her hands reaching up for Castiel’s and her eyes wide, staring into his face. 

You and Dean watched on in outward confusion. Castiel, to your knowledge, had never handled a baby before. At least not in recent years. 

“How did you do that?” Dean asked almost aggressively, “She was cryin’ up a storm seconds ago and you just took her and nothing.”

“Did you use your grace?” Sam suggested. 

“She’s much too small to handle my grace in any capacity. It would kill her.” 

You considered jumping in and taking her from Castiel but stopped yourself. She was settled and happily holding onto the angel's fingers. No sense in ruining it. Beside you Dean was tense, clearly struggling with something along the same lines. His face was etched in hard lines and you could see his brows furrowing. 

Gently you looped your arm through his and guided him to his long forgotten coffee cup. He moved but his eyes never left you daughter in the angel’s arms. 

“So,” Sam cleared his throat, “About this hunt.” 

“What about it?” Dean glared at him over the rim of his cup. 

“Are you in or -” 

“He’s in.” You answer before the question could even be finished. 

“Wha - I -” 

“Oh come on. You got this. I can handle her and Cas will be here if I need any help. Right Cas?” The angel gave something akin to a positive response, “You have to get back out there at some point.”

Dean’s gaze flickered from Sam to you, finally coming to land on Castiel. He watched the angel gently swaying the little girl in his arms and the lines on his face began to soften. 

“Hmmm. You’re sure about this?” He asked. 

“Positive.” 

“If there’s any trouble, anything at all, you call me.” 

“Sure.” You smiled, “But I doubt Winnie will be as much of an issue as your malevolent spirit.” 

Dean chuckled, accompanied by Sam. 

“God, we’re really going to have to talk about her name when I get back.” 

[inhuman-obey-me]

Congrats on having 4k+ followers!

Can you write 😴 with Mammon? And yes I want MC too.

Thank you!!

“Don’t you worry about your bad dreams, ‘cause I’m not in them.” - Mammon/MC

content warning: brief mention of violence/gore

It’s a cold night in the House of Lamentation, a blanket draped over your shoulders as you leave your room and make your way up the stairs. The screen of your D.D.D. dimly lights your face as you walk, a huff leaving your lips as you read over your latest messages. 

↳ You: Hey, can I sleep in your room tonight? ↳ Mammon: Huh?! ↳ Mammon: What, something got you scared or something? ↳ Mammon: Need the Great Mammon to protect ya?  ↳ Mammon: Unless you’re after something else… ↳ You: …Nevermind. ↳ Mammon: Heyheyhey! I’m kidding! ↳ Mammon: ‘Course you can. 

He opens the door before you can even knock, clearing his throat as he leans against the doorframe while motioning with his arm that you can enter. He’s doing his best to appear unbothered, but you can tell from the slight flush on his cheeks that he’s rather flustered at your arrival this late at night. 

“So, uh…what’s up?” He asks, watching you move to sit at the edge of his bed. 

“I…I haven’t been able to sleep too well lately.” You sheepishly admit, tightening the blanket around you. “Been having some bad dreams lately.”

“Oh.” Mammon’s eyes widen for a bit, but soon his usual grin is back as he plops down next to you, his chest puffed up in bravado. “Well, don’t you worry about your bad dreams, ‘cause I’m not in them! I’ve given demons nightmares before, y’know! Nothing’s as scary as the Great Mammon coming after ya!”

“Oh really?” You quirk a brow at him, amused at the response from the brother who couldn’t stand the thought of ghosts. “I can think of a few things that are more scary than that.”

“Hey, you don’t know some of the stuff I’ve done!” Mammon retorts, offended. “I’ve done all sorts of things. I’ve ripped people’s throats out, I’ve dragged bodies through the street,” he begins counting on his fingers, “I’ve poured melted gold on them, I’ve pecked people’s eyes out with my crows, I’ve beaten demons up with a metal pipe, I’ve messed with people’s heads, I’ve – ”

He stops himself then, realizing that the last thing you probably wanted to hear right now was about his more gruesome exploits. “Ah, shit. Sorry, I got ahead of myself there.” 

“It’s okay.” You respond quietly, studying him. He’s in his demon form, something you’ve come to realize is usual for them when they go to bed. It’s true that despite Mammon’s often brazen and reckless behavior, he could be absolutely terrifying if you made one too many wrong moves. There had been moments where you had seen a hint of it, witnessed it – but he always did his best to hide that side from you. The bloodied, Second Ruler of the Underworld side. 

Perhaps what made him so especially frightening was just how well he could hide it. 

“Here,” his voice softens as he shifts further back into the bed, extending his wings and arms out to welcome you into them. “I’ll shut up. Wanna talk about your nightmares?” 

“No, not really.” You wriggle your way up the bed, nestling against his chest and letting his arms embrace you, his leathery wings cocoon you. “Nothing’s as scary as you, after all. You’ll chase the bad dreams away, right?”

“Damn right I will.” He chuckles, resting his chin atop your head. “With the Great Mammon around, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” 

With a small smile, you find yourself agreeing as you melt into his warmth.

[lexischococoveredblueberries]

Can you make a veneer x reader where reader is supposedly assistant but actually a super famous model/popstar? Velvet and Veneer only realize that their assistant was no ordinary person, (Veneer notices it first) but a celebrity more popular than them (Velvet only realizes when they go to reader's concert that Veneer begged Velvet to go with him) :3 (also reader took the job because they wanted to try having "a normal job" for once and for the possibility of making friends with other popstars) and can we choose our stage names ourselves?

my first request, thank u!!! i love this plot omg…, absolutely >o<

F/S/N : first stage name

L/S/N : last stage name

┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　° ┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚ 　　° ┊┊❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. ｡˚

• falling for fame •

veneer x FEM!reader

• one shot

• fluff

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫ .・。

“goodnight, Velvet and Veneer.”

you closed the door to their dressing room and

dashed down the hall. you had just finished helping

Velvet and Veneer get un-ready from their

performance, which was absolutely spectacular.

every time you watch them perform you’re taken

away by how they control an audience and how their

aura beams across the room. being their assistant ,

you kind of have to say things like that for appeal, but

you really meant it 99% of the time.

the other the majority of that percentage was from

what you took by watching Venner, though.

whenever you watched him dance and sing and

seem so relaxed, you can’t help but feel the urge to

start moving too.

maybe he was your inspiration when you decided to become your own star.

now out of the building, you hurried down a small

trail behind the overly large structure which led to an

underground neighbourhood that was lightened up

by old bulbs hanging from trees and cheap

streetlights. this place didn’t really have any

meaning , well, of course until you showed up.

you had finally made it to another building , where

you dragged yourself to your own dressing room.

after running up many stairs, you let your huge work

tote bag down and started undressing, throwing your

robe on as you waited for someone.

knock knock

there she was.

“come in,” you called and the door opened. Georgia,

your own assistant , came through holding clothes in

her arms and lots of small bags. she smiles brightly

at you.

“oh, y/n, thank goodness. i almost thought you

ditched on all of us.” she jokes, putting the outfit

down on your mini sofa beside your vanity which you

sat at. Georgia was a sweet woman, who was a

mother to a small boy, Finn, you had met one or

twice. she was a dream assistant to anyone who

wanted one that didn’t bark or bitch.

“i would never abandon you, Gia. the siblings were

busy today, Velvet wanted extra touch ups and such.”

you explained while Georgia set up curling irons and

laid out makeup brushes. you seen her smile slyly at

you.

“oh, really? it wasn’t because you got caught up

staring holes in the back of her brothers head? huh,

how strange.” she teased you, and you fought back a

huge smile that threatened to take up your whole

face.

“sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.” you

murmur, trying to hide the embarrassment in your

voice, but obviously failing.

you sort of wished Veneer would show up, if only he

knew. you weren’t sure WHY he didn’t know,

Velvet either, considering you were popular enough

for plenty of people to know about.

you tried to shrug it off, but you still felt weird about

it. you guessed they had better things to worry

about, that wasn’t you.

( performance ref pictures for anyone that wants them, if not then imagine to your hearts content )

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧ ┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚

Meanwhile…

“goodnight, Velvet and Veneer.”

you closed the door, and Veneer bit the inside of his

cheek.

“i wonder where she goes after her shifts.” he

wonders out loud, crossing his arms. Velvet looks at

him like he said something out of pocket, and she

scoffed.

“hm, well, i don’t really give a shit. she can do what

she wants, can’t she?” she said in a snarky tone,

gathering her things together and throwing her now

free hair into a loose ponytail. you did an amazing job

with being able to get all of the product out of their

hair , and Veneer only noticed how flawless it was

now.

Velvet headed towards the door and looked back at

Veneer.

“i’m heading home, Ven. you following ?” she asked,

raising an eyebrow. Veneer was still staring at the

door from when you walked out, but he looked at

Velvet and smiled.

“yeah, eventually. go on, i’ll get a ride later.” he

replied. Velvet kind of gave a side eye to a fake

camera and shrugged. “mkay.. ciao.” she closed the

door on her way out.

Veneer waited a second. two. three.

he scrambled, threw on a pullover hoodie and bolted

out the door, following after you.

he panicked half the time, hoping that he looked like

a janitor on his way home from his shift , and frankly

he did. he followed you out of the building and down

the strange path that he didn’t even knew existed,

but he tried not to question it.

he made sure not to get too close , but also not too

far away, not because he was afraid of losing sight of

you, but also to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt.

now he saw what he walked into, a beautiful

underground neighborhood that almost looked like a

child’s dream treehouse. he was so taken aback that

he lost sight of you and began to panic. you

vanished in thin air, and he almost turned around to

run. but then he started hearing music, from a stage

from the middle of the grounds.

“what…” he whispered. he began walking towards it.

it took him a few minutes to get there, and when he

did, loads of people started flooding the ground, and

he became afraid of people recognizing him. he

pulled the hood further up but made sure to keep his

eyes on the stage. but it just got worse from there.

he could’ve swore the ENTIRE neighborhood was

flooded with people; 3x the crowd that Veneer and

Velvet get. Veneer began to over think.

‘Vel wouldn’t be happy about this…’ he thought to

himself, and he was about to leave again, when all

the lights on stage went off. people began cheering

and screaming as the sound of footsteps tapped on

the stage. the lights came back on, and Veneer seen

a tall lady standing at the front of the stage in a suit

holding a microphone

“you’ve all been waiting long enough! please welcome our loved, F/S/N L/S/N to the stage!”

more cheering commenced and Veneer was getting

confused. he certainly didn’t know that name. that

was until the lady left the stage and someone else

took the lead behind her.

Veneer froze.

“oh my god.” he said out loud. you appeared at the

front of the stage, backup dancers behind you. you

posed with confidence and gazed the crowd like you

owned it. he stood and stared like that’s what he was

born to do.

it was a magnificent performance.

As much as he adored Velvet and everything

she did was better than what anyone else

could do, he couldn’t say the same thing

right now.

he gazed and was lost in a trance; at the

way you danced, sung like you were holding

in a voice of gold since you were born and

controlled the audience with every striking

belt. this was probably the best show

Veneer has ever seen, and his heart

squeezed, wondering how this girl he swore

he knew ended up being someone

completely different.

after your performance, Veneer felt as if something

apart of him bloomed. that was all he needed to see

to feel complete. his supposedly normal assistant

was actually a pop star that he casually never knew

about ?

he wanted to go see you. he wanted to run backstage

and ask a million questions, but he knew he couldn’t.

not right now. instead, he ran off somewhere where

people weren’t and pulled out his phone and dialled

Velvet. she picked up after a few rings.

“what Veneer.”

“hi sis, uhm, were you AWARE that y/n, our

ASSISTANT, is a pop star???”

there was silence.

“…what the hell are you talking about? also where are

you??”

“listen, vel, i….i followed y/n here. i was curious of

her outside life and i accidentally discovered that

she’s super famous , and i kid you not that she’s

almost as famous as WE ARE. i’m bringing you here

tomorrow.”

“uhm. sure.” she sounded unsure.

“okay. i’m coming home.” he hung up and looked at

the stage one last time before leaving.

the next day…

after a long day of Veneer struggling to hide the face

that he knew about your “secret” , the time finally

came for Veneer to bring Velvet to your show. he

stood anxiously in their dressing room, picking at his

hands and clearing his throat repetitively. Velvet

noticed this as she was packing her things.

“uhm, what’s up with that? you’re the one that

wanted to bring me to her in the first place.” she

questioned, putting a hand on her hip as she

examined her brothers anxious gestures.

Veneer looked at her and suddenly stopped, running

his fingers through his hair.

“i-i don’t know what you’re talking about. let’s go?”

he tried to change the conversation. Velvet would’ve

protested but she kind of wanted to get this over

with, but of course she had to throw in a remark.

“you like her.”

Veneers heart pumped furiously as the thought was

put in his head.

“no. well.. no! velvet.” he became embarrassed by her

comment and suddenly wanted to disappear. she

laughed.

“you’re really bad at hiding your feelings. i’m your

sister, i would know.” she smirked and opened the

door. “move it.”

he shook his head and went out the door, Velvet

closing it behind him.

Veneer guided his sister to the underground tunnel-

ish place and she grimaced with her voice.

“oh my god, it’s like, damp in here. ew.” she

complained, pulling at the sweater that she wore.

Veneer wasn’t really listening. he was eagerly looking

around, wondering if he would spot you out and

about, hoping to have a conversation before you

performed.

they made themselves to the pit of the arena,

ushering off to the side so people wouldn’t look at them.

“it’s off putting that no one has noticed us yet.

almost upsetting,” Velvet said.

“maybe it’s the fact we don’t have three tubs of gel in

our hair right now?” Veneer replied, not meaning to

sound like a hard-ass but coming off as it anyway.

Velvet scoffed. “shut it.”

that’s when the people started flooding in, and

Velvets face went shocked.

“holy shit,” she whispered , looking around

frantically.

“there’s no way this is for y/n. she has ten times more

people than we do! ugh!” she became upset and

veneer blew air in his cheeks.

“that’s..what i told you.” he whispered to himself and

looked to the stage.

when the hundreds of people finally stopped coming,

Veneer knew this was the time. he could barely wait.

he was basically shaking in his boots, eager to see

you. to see you dance and steal the shine of the

stars. he couldn’t help but see you as the moon.

then, the lights went off,and Veneer nearly shrieked.

he felt like a fanboy to his own assistant; and he

didn’t know how to feel about that.

the announcer came on again, and that’s when the

lights came back on and he could see you, there,

with a gorgeous outfit and stunning makeup that

made you seem intimidating. he could’ve cried at

how beautiful you were, his heart throbbed in his

chest as he just wanted to climb on stage and join

you; steal your own show but make you the main

attraction.

Veneer was getting caught up with his thoughts the

entire performance, and the look on his sister’s face

was priceless. he couldn’t really tell if it was jealousy,

admiration or a combination of both. but in this

moment, he didn’t care what she thought , all he

wanted to do was watch and admire you.

there was a split moment when you were near the

edge of the stage, singing effortlessly like you always

do, and made direct eye contact with veneer.

the whole world stopped for both of you. Veneer was

lost in your eyes, you were clueless of why he was

here, but that butterfly feeling started in the pit of

your chest. you kept singing , didn’t miss a single

word, and carried on.

Veneer felt his face flush as he continued to stare like

a fool.

after another ground breaking performance, the

applause roared across the entire plot and you gave a

bow, giving Veneer a final look and thanking

everyone in your mic. heading backstage , Veneer

held the urge to run back as well, but he looked to

Velvet.

she was already looking at him, and her expression

was…soft.

“go, Ven.” she said, motioning her head towards the

backstage entrance.

he smiled at her. “thank you vel.”

he ran to the backstage, being able to sneak past the

guards and past the red curtains.

he stopped to look around and saw you stepping off

the stage stairs. you looked at each other.

‘she’s so beautiful in the dark.’ he thought to

himself, walking towards you and your mouth parted.

“veneer,” you started, trying to get words out of your

mouth while shaking your head. “you..you knew?

how? you brought velvet ?? why…why?” so many

thoughts came blurting out and Veneer took your

hand.

“i always knew. i knew you pursued something,

you’re the type of girl to do that.” he looked at you

with kind eyes, and you swallowed with a dry mouth.

“i..” you stopped, taking a deep breath, looking away

and looking back. “thank you, for showing up. that meant more than you really know. i didn’t tell in fear of trying to out run you and Vel. i’m sorry,” you explained, a slight panic in your voice, but Veneer sealed your worries with a gentle kiss to your hand.

“let me support you y/n. i want this for both of us.”

his words had an effect on your heart and you smiled

warmly. you brought his and your hand to your heart.

“ yeah. just you and me. oh, well, Velvet too.” both of

you shared a laugh.

FLASH

a bright light came from the backstage entrance ,

and paparazzi and kid ritz stood there with shocked

expressions on their faces.

“oh.” you both said in unison.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦

a/n: AHHH IDK IF THIS WAS TOO LONG OR NOT IM CHARACTER FOR VENEER HELP 😞 i apologize if this sucks lol but i had fun making it 💗 tysm for the support lately i love all of you + my dms are always open if any of u need a friend ! requests are open always unless said otherwise <3

[itsabouttimex2]

Monkiefam: Part One

Transformation Troubles

(Part Zero) (Part One) (Part Two)

“It’s for your own safety, kiddo.”

Those words ring in your mind as you stare out of the window, watching as your “father” trains your “brother”. You idly watch them clash, deftly swinging their staffs, blocking, counter-attacking, and breaking through each other’s defenses. Wukong stands leagues above MK, even though the kid is learning fast. You’ve gotten used to the sight of the monkey demon correcting his mentee’s stance, shifting his arms and legs, hauling him off the ground and dusting his clothes off when he knocks him down. Once, you would’ve stood in wide-eyed awe, caught on every fluid strike and powerful swing. Now, it’s become so commonplace that you barely bat an eye.

You only really start to pay attention when they start rapidly shifting between several forms from the 72 Transformations technique.

Although your “family” had allowed you to partake in basic training exercises like stretches and warmups, anything beyond that was strictly off-limits to you. As MK mastered skill after skill and bolstered his arsenal of techniques, you were stuck inside, only able to watch him grow. All to keep you safe, in their own words. One was a monkey demon and one was an inheritor to the legacy and powers of said monkey demon. They were powerful and mystical, and you were a regular human, short-lived and fragile. Weaker, slower, squishier.

But more than smart enough to learn a few of their tricks.

And brave enough to try one out.

“If you wanna change your body, you gotta change your thinking first, bud.”Wukong had instructed MK with these words not too long ago. From a hawk to a tiger to even something as small as a butterfly, Sun Wukong had already mastered all 72 and MK was well on his way to learning to do so himself.

You only had one in mind to start with. If you wanted to ever escape the smothering clutches of these two warriors, you weren’t going to be able to do it with any kind of mindless force. Being able to take the form of a hawk might’ve sounded useful, but the Monkey King could easily outspeed you. A tiger? Both of them could take the same form, and were much stronger to boot. Picking something like a spider would easily keep MK away, but wouldn’t deter Wukong in the slightest.

So instead, you settled on the monkey. Then, you had plausible deniability on your side. You could shrug it off as ‘wanting to be more like him’ or ‘wanting to see what it was like’ if Wukong asked you why you’d been practicing transformations at all. MK wouldn’t need any sort of explanation from you, because he’d probably just get excited about you learning such a technique.

You have your plan. And your reasoning, if things go poorly. All that’s left to do is to get started.

Change your thinking.

Wild, exuberant energy. Skillful jumps and leaps. Dexterous limbs and powerful bodies. Unbridled curiosity. Devotion to your troop.

An innate desire to revel in freedom.

At first, you had worried that the transformation might hurt. But then the whole world flashes gold and your body shifts and reshapes, and you feel better than you ever have before. A burst of adrenaline rushes through you, glowing sparks of white hot energy coursing your veins. You lie there on the floor for a few minutes, trying to regain your composure as the searing ecstasy of success flows through your shifted body.

And then there’s a knock on the door. You try to scramble to your feet, only to trip over your unfamiliar appendages. You slip and lightly thud against the floor, which only worries your captor more.

“You doing okay in there, bud? Training ran a little long, huh?”

You can’t respond. You try to respond, but nothing akin to speech comes out. Only silk-soft chittering. Then it hits you.

You aren’t a gorilla, a chimpanzee, an orangutan.

“Are you still mad that we won’t let you train with us? Am I getting the silent treatment now, kid?”

No, you’ve shifted into one of the little monkeys that flourish on Flower Fruit Mountain.

“Aww, don’t be too upset, alright? Hey, I’ll have MK bring us some of those noodles the two of you like, okay? The three of us can eat together.”

And you don’t know how to turn back.

“Y/N?”

You only have a few seconds to register the concern in his voice before the door between the two of you flies off the handles, broken down by a single kick from Wukong. He crosses the threshold into your room, looking around not only in worry, but tentative anger. If you had broken out again, he was going to…

You look up. He looks down.

There’s only a couple of seconds where he’s confused, head tilted curiously to the side at the sight of the little monkey in front of him. Then, recognition writes itself across his face.

His eyes widen in adoration as the end of his tail curls into a sort of heart. He dashes forward and snatches you off the ground with a huge grin, holding you up to his face. He nuzzles you against himself, brushing his cheek against your own. He only pauses to call out to his student.

“MK, bud, you gotta come see this!”

Once you hear excited footsteps pounding down the halls, you know that you’re in for a long day.

[xiakato]

Interview With The Pop-star - KARINA

“Giselle has great taste in her toys,” She crosses her arms, a smirk plastered on her beautiful face, “always the best.” 

“Nice to meet you too, Karina,” You sat across from her, your own skin became milky over the weeks as you adjusted to your new lifestyle. 

“So proper,” She giggles, leaning forward giving a good view of her cleavage, “She told me how good you are, made me even want to give you a ride.” 

“I’m honored but we have things to do before I would even consider that,” You place down the recorder, “Now, Karina, let’s start with the interview.” 

“Are you going to ask the same boring questions you asked Giselle because if you are, I’m leaving.”

“Who’s your favorite prey?” You watch as a sadistic smile crawls on her beautiful face, her fangs slightly grazing her lip. 

“Male Idols, so easy to entertain, so easy to drain them of the tasty blood coursing through their veins. They usually are the sweetest, besides children but I don’t go for them. I have morals unlike that crazy one that runs that orphanage.” 

“Who runs the orphanage?”

“Oh sure that you will meet that beauty soon, truly sad she’s a bit crazy. Well more than a bit crazy.” 

“I see, tell me about your turning,” You watch as her carefree attitude shifts, the air is tense. 

“It’s nothing special,” She shifts in her seat, appearing to be uncomfortable under your sharp gaze. You study her body language, the picking at her nails that only started when you asked her. 

“If it isn’t anything special.. Why won’t you tell me?” 

“I’m sure Giselle already told you, after all she’s the one that turned me,” Karina’s eyes shift from side to side, avoiding yours. 

“She hasn’t told me anything, so tell me,” Your eyes slightly glow under the low light, something you learned that you had to influence other vampires. That whoever gave birth to the heinous thing you’ve become deemed worthy to control over those unworthy. She stops shifting in her seat, staring into your eyes like a deer in headlights.

“H-how do you have the power of an Elder?” 

“It seems that I’m a favorite,” You simply smile, “Now tell me.” 

“It’s not so simple as being a favorite Y/n,” She looks worried, worried for you? Not in the slightest, worried for yourself. She only ran into Elders, a handful of times during her years lurking in the night. The terror, the fear she felt in her veins, as their eyes stared down at her like she’s the lowest form of life, “How Y/n?” 

“You certainly like to throw my name around,” The glow gets brighter and her attitude dims. 

“Sorry, sir,” Her voice was a fraction of what it was at the start of the interview, “To answer your question. It was winter of 1758, it was the Joseon period under the rule of King Yeongjo. I was working hard, taking any job I could get even if I had to sell myself to politicians. Earning money for my little brother. You see, he was sick so I tried my best to earn enough for his medicine,” She looks up at you, you simply nod along, listening to her, hanging onto every word that comes from her. She sits on her hand to stop picking at her nails, “Until one night, I met her, Giselle, her skin as white as the falling snow. She said that she could cure my brother, of course for a cost. She turned him into a vampire and gave him to her, the one that runs the orphanage. She turned me to one as well, so she could have someone to hate her as much as she hates herself.” 

“Have you seen your brother since then?” 

She nods, “He works for the crazy one, as her butler of sorts.”  

“At least you’ve seen him,” You smile at her, watching her cheeks turn slightly red. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure Jimin,” You turn off the recorder, placing it in your pocket. 

“Why do you have the power of the Elders?” 

“I don’t know, it was something that I figured out I could do, Giselle seems to know something but of course you know her never saying anything.” 

“You’re going to have to be careful, vampires like you come around before. They were killed quickly as they threatened the hierarchy.” 

“Of course I will be, thank you for the warning Jimin,” You pat her head as you walk towards the door. She grips on your sleeve. 

“Aren’t you forgetting something Sir?” She asks looking up at you, her shining brown eyes clouded with the vampiric lust you’ve grown accustomed to. 

“What might that be?” you ask even though you knew the answer, you wanted to hear her say, beg for it. 

“Fuck me,” her voice dripping with lust, as she pulls you towards the bedroom. Her skirt finds itself on the floor within a few seconds. She soon joins it, kneeling down in front of you stroking you through your trousers. Her eyes half lidded, you feel her hot breath as she kisses your shaft as she unbuckles your belt. Pulling them down, she smiles as she comes face to face with your cock, “I’ve been wanting this so badly,” She peppers kisses down your shaft, “So big and thick,” She licks back up to your tip. Her soft hand slowly stroking as she watches you, “I need this in me.” 

“I don’t know if you do Jimin,” You smirk as you watch her perfect lips pout, her hands still stroking. 

“Just call me how you want to, don’t hold back sir,” She slaps her cheek with your cock, “Call me a slut, call me whatever you want Sir, make me your toy please I need you to.” 

You can’t help but smile down at her, your eyes glowing bright red, “Suck it,” You command her, she smiles brightly yet shakes her head, “Suck it, little slut,” She takes you into her mouth, her spit dripping out as she opens her mouth, her tongue swirling around your tip. Her eyes close as she takes in your taste, her moans as she takes in deeper and deeper into her mouth and throat. You watch as she masterfully takes care of you, leaving no inch of your cock left untouched. Her eyes open as she takes you fully down her throat, no gag reflex as she stares up at you. She smiles as she pulls your cock out. 

“How’s that Sir?” She asks as she kisses your tip repeatedly. You pull her up to her feet by her hair tossing her onto the bed. Her giggles fill the room, her excitement shown as she lifts her ass in the air for you. Looking back at you, you can see the expectation in her eyes, “Please Sir, fuck me please!” 

Her pussy glistening in the light, waiting for you to stretch her. Your cock slips in with ease, you watch as she grips onto the sheets. Her moans fill the room as you get your rhythm, “Fuck,” You mutter under your breath, gripping onto her ponytail. 

“G-give it to me Sir, Please I want you to break me please~” She pleads, you piston into her watching her ass bounce as you fuck her. 

“What a dirty slut,” You scowl as you pull harder on her ponytail, making sure she feels every inch. 

“Only for y-y-y-you, I’m your slut,” Her arms give out, you hold her upper body up by her ponytail, as you feel her body start to shake, her pussy tightens as she squirts all over the sheets and the floor.

You let go of the ponytail, taking in the sight under you. One of the most sought after idols in the industry, underneath you shaking like a used slut. You slowly thrust into her as she comes down from her climax.

“F-f-fuck,” She manages to get out as she looks at you from the side of her eye,”Give me that cum Sir, please fill me to the brim.”  

Not one to leave a request unfulfilled, you start to piston her into the bed, her pussy tightens around your shaft.  She takes you dare you say better than Giselle does, her hands grip onto the sheets till her knuckles turn white. She bites onto the pillow as she feels you reach every depth she thought no one could get to. Her eyes roll back, your hand gripping onto her hips, pushing down giving yourself more room. You push, to what she thinks is to her womb, filling her with rope after rope of your cum. You slowly pull out as she shudders, smiling as she feels your cock rest on her ass, still hard. 

“Sir, how about you join me in the shower and I’ll get you nice and cleaned up, yeah?” 

[dogsayswoof]

Hounds from Hell Chapter 1

Summary: Wednesday Addams takes an interest in a certain football player.

Word Count: 1.1k Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Hounds from Hell Masterlist)

Next Chapter

Wednesday Addams has always noticed your presence as you have always noticed hers. She was quiet but observant, but you were also not hard to miss. As the star quarterback of the Nevermore football team, you were not hard to miss. When she asked Enid about you all she could do was squeal in excitement.

"Fiiiiinally, you're taking an interest in something other than death around here. Y/N is the quarterback for the Nevermore Ravens, our football team. She's kind of a fur as she isn't a werewolf but she is a wolf of some sort. They're all really quiet about what they are-"

"They?" Wednesday cut off and Enid nodded,

"Her and her pack. The Hemingways, or the twins, George and Elizabeth, with the white hair both extremely quiet, and the Bassets... ugh Benton's shimmering black hair, and then his younger brother Atwell. They usually get picked up on full moons by their families. I guess they must be pretty wealthy because they usually get picked up in a limo, they don't appear until the next morning."

Wednesday nodded processing this information.

"Thank you for this information"

"Do you like her?" Enid asked a grin from ear to ear.

"What?"

"Y/N? We are somewhat friends if you want me to put in a good word" she said giggling at the thought.

"That will not be necessary" Wednesday replied coldly, turning on her heel and heading for the door.

"Whatever you say Wednesday" she called out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were fresh out of football practice when you were approached by the small dark girl.

"Y/N Y/L/N"

"Wednesday Addams" you said coolly, running a hand through your sweaty hair.

She stared at you studying your features.

"Did you need something from me? I am quite a busy woman" you said and she just stared a deep hole into you, causing you to shift.

"I noticed you are doing.. less than adequate in chemistry. I am offering my assistance so you can keep participating in your extracurriculars."

Your face burned hot at the thought of Wednesday noticing your failing grades.

"And.. how did you come to know that information?" you asked.

She crossed her arms,

"I just know these sorts of things" she replied in her typical monotone voice.

"Alright fine. Yes I need help."

"Then it is a deal. I shall help you and you will help me"

"How will I help you?" you looked confused, tilting your head sideways.

"I shall inform you of that later. Come to my dorm tonight. 7pm. Do NOT be late."

She turned to walk away as you watched.

"Yes ma'am" you called out after her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Wednesday continued your study sessions, planned around times that Enid was not there, as not to be plagued by her suggestive looks and constant teasing.

One night, you were lying on the floor, books and papers spread in front of you, a massive headache on the rise when you hit the floor, pushing yourself up.

"Alright, I can't do it anymore" you said roughly.

Wednesday looked over at you from her desk.

"Well you are hopeless. Your brain's ability to retain basic scientific information is incredibly lacking."

"Thank you Wednesday" you said groaning and falling back onto Enid's bed with an arm over your eyes, "I have gotten a bit better"

"Yes, you have gone from D average to a C average." she admits.

You sat back up on the bed and you looked at her, studying her features as she carefully dissected the homework in front of her.

"Do you want to talk about something more interesting?" You asked and she looked up at you again.

You both stared at each other, a small familiar burning sensation growing in your stomach. You quickly looked away and tried to force the feeling away as you recognized what it was immediately.

"I suppose we could take a break."

"Alright, then, fire away. Ask me anything you want to know."

"What are you?"

You were taken aback by the abruptness of her question causing your face to drop before a small smile took it's place.

"The truth?"

"That would be preferred."

"A hellhound" you said casually getting up to play with different trinkets on her bookshelves, "My ancestors from years and years ago made a deal with the devil that they couldn't repay. Instead of turning over their lives to him they became servants to Hades."

You flipped a dagger as she watched intently absorbing this newfound side of you.

"My family became hellhounds. The Bassets, bloodhounds, and the Hemingways, soulhounds. As time progressed their loyalty was rewarded, the ability to live human lives and roam the world but as long as they remained loyal. Every full moon we have a duty to perform."

Her dark eyes bore into yours as you turned to look at her.

"What are your duties?"

"The soulhounds herd the souls of the unfortunate victims. The bloodhounds collect blood from the bodies. The hellhounds, are the right hand men to Hades."

Wednesday was entranced by every word you uttered.

"What do those duties consist of?"

You walked over to her, leaning on her desk with both of your arms and leaning in.

"I am responsible for the death and destruction of who Hades demands"

Wednesday felt the shiver down her spine as you whispered that to her. She followed you as you flopped back onto Enid's bed some sort of puzzle box in hand. Every ounce of her wanted to learn more about what you just told her, but she was at a loss for words for once in her life.

"You kill people then?"

"Yeah, but I try not to kill people who don't deserve it. My brothers and I have always followed that rule and it has satisficed Hades so far"

You rolled the puzzle box in your hand before glancing at your watch.

"Shit. I have to go. Curfew" you said flying off Enid's bed and shoving your homework into your backpack.

Wednesday stood up from her desk and in front of you.

"Thank you for sharing that with me" she said and you halted your actions. You smiled down at her and you thought for a second that there was the slightest hint of a smile in return, until the door flew open and Enid was standing there in an excited shock at the scene playing out in front of her.

"Oh... my... GOD" she screamed 

"That's my cue to leave" you said breaking away from Wednesday and heading towards the door. 

With your body inside the hallway, one hand on the door, you leaned back in and smiled.

"Come to the game tomorrow?" you asked and Wednesday crossed her arms again.

"I could think of several other more interesting activities to torture myself with than watch a bunch of boys tackle each other for fun."

"Good. See you tomorrow then." you glanced at Enid, "Goodnight Enid"

You took off down the hallway in order to get to your dorm before getting caught.

Enid looked at Wednesday and if looks could kill Wednesday would have been dead.

"So how long exactly have you been seeing Y/N?"

[atinylittlepain]

Apothecary - chapter three

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

someone comes looking for her help that she hadn't been expecting. joel continues to grapple with what's true and what isn't. lines are crossed that they won't be able to come back from.

warnings | 18+ canon-typical violence, angst, spooky vibes as always

................................

She knew it was too good to be true. It always is. They always are. She shouldn’t have let herself believe him, that he wouldn’t let the people in town sway his mind. She had wanted, more than anything, for it to be true. She had wanted him. But it’s been two weeks since she’s heard from Joel Miller, and she’s finding herself having to quietly accept that he’s just like the rest of them. 

The first few days after they went up into the mountains together, she managed to reason to herself that he was just busy with patrol shifts. But a few days turned into a week, and then something happened that made it clear to her that he wasn’t just busy. She had been wandering along the tables of the weekly town market, Stevie close on her heels, when she saw him a little further down the way, arms crossed over his chest and talking with Tommy. She smiled when his eyes met hers, only feeling a little dorky for the small wave she offered him, but his face had been unreadable, flat, expressionless. He didn’t so much as acknowledge her, muttering something to his brother before turning heel and walking away. Away from her. When she got back to her shop afterward, the sweet bunch of sunflowers she had traded for had all wilted and browned, crisped petals falling off the shriveled stalks. 

She hadn’t felt embarrassed like that in a long time, the thick skin she had developed living in Jackson usually protecting her from it. But the way that he had ignored her, practically shunned her, had a slippery heat creeping up her throat that she never wanted to feel again. She hung a wreath of rosemary and lavender on her front door and the door to her shop that night, a protection she learned from her mother. And the next day, she took to the task of forgetting all about Joel Miller, and the man she thought he was. 

It hasn’t exactly been difficult to distract herself. Afterall, it seems like there’s always someone else with some sort of affliction, needing her help. But things become complicated when, one night, someone comes knocking on the backdoor to her shop that she hadn’t been expecting.

“Um, hi– hello. My friends sent me, they told me you could help?” She squints at the girl in the dim shadows, the only light coming from inside her shop.

“You’re Ellie, right?” The girl’s face brightens at that, worry smoothing out as she nods.

“Mmhmm, yep. That’s me.” Joel’s kid. She has only seen her in passing around town, but she recognizes her right away.

“What do you need help with?” Ellie bites her lip, eyes darting around a bit before settling back on her.

“Could I– can I come in?” She hesitates, but nods, stepping aside to let the girl into the back of the shop. 

“Woah, this place is so fucking cool.” She has to laugh, watching Ellie’s wide eyes roam around the back room as she shuffles inside, her head whipping around to the sound of the back door shutting.

“You said you needed some help? What’s going on?” Ellie lets out a nervous laugh, her brows scrunching up as she smiles at her.

“So, just for the record, I don’t believe what everyone says about you.” Her brows raise at that, stepping around Ellie to tend to the pot she has going on the stove.

“You don’t?”

“Nope– I mean, I know you help people. But I think it’s a little ridiculous to be calling someone a wi– I mean, unless you like being called a witch, then I think that’s cool too–” She laughs lightly at Ellie’s nervous ramble, turning away from the stove to offer her a reassuring smile.

“It’s alright, Ellie. You can call me whatever you want to, really, I don’t mind. But what I would like to hear is what you need my help with.” Ellie nods jerkily, taking a sharp inhale before responding.

“Well, um, some of my friends told me that you’ll help people with, like– relationship stuff?” She thinks she knows what the kid is referring to, but needs her to explain it herself.

“Relationship stuff?” Ellie nods.

“Yeah, like– one of my friends– he said his mom came to you for help with his dad, her husband, I guess. He said you made him love her again.” She crosses her arms over her chest, sighing deeply at Ellie’s words.

“I didn’t make anyone do anything, kid. I provide– nudges. What people make of those is up to them, though.” 

“Ok! So, could you help me with a– a nudge, then?” Ellie’s eyes are wide, rimmed with hope as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

“How old are you, kid?” Ellie squares up her shoulders at that.

“Eighteen.” She quirks her brow, and Ellie sighs.

“Fine, I’m seventeen.” Still not buying it, she tilts her chin at the girl, whose shoulders finally slump.

“I’m fifteen, alright? But I really, really like this girl– and all I’m asking for is some help getting her to notice me, that’s all!” She sighs.

“Kid–”

“Please– I’ll do just about anything for your help– I-I can trade you for it! I could, like, help out around the shop for you, run errands for you. Just– please, will you help me?” She can already feel herself caving in to the girl’s pleas. When Stevie jumps up onto the butcher’s block and starts nuzzling at Ellie’s arm, her resolve disappears completely. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll help you–” Ellie’s face splits out into a grin, clearly getting ready to let out an exclamation, but she isn’t done talking.

“But, this isn’t gonna be the strong stuff, ok? You’re way too young to be messing with that. And I’m gonna take you up on that offer– you can come and work for me after your classes in trade for it. That sound like a deal?” Ellie laughs, nodding.

“Yep, yeah, yes ma’am. You have a deal.”

…

“Wait, that’s it?” Ellie holds up the small jar, watching the honey drip slowly from one side to the other. Stevie lets out a little mrrp from where she’s sitting in Ellie’s lap, yellow eyes looking up at her.

“Not quite, here–” She gets up from her seat at the butcher’s block, quickly grabbing a scrap of paper and pencil before setting them down in front of Ellie.

“I want you to write down what– or who– it is you want to attract on that piece of paper. Keep it in your mind as you fold it up and tuck it into the jar, ok?” Ellie nods, quickly scribbling out what she thinks is a name, though she tries to keep herself from peering over the girl’s quickly moving hands. Honey jar spells remind her of her mother. One of the first times she got to see her working was on such a spell, and it had been a real lesson in the work they do.

“People believe what they want to believe, my dear. We just help them guide that belief into reality. That’s what this power really is, an ability to see what others can’t. Our eyes are just a bit more open than everyone else’s. It’s not the spells that matter, it’s the minds that believe they matter that make all the difference.”

Ellie scrunches her eyes shut as she folds up the paper, and she can’t help but smile at the girl as she tucks the scrap into the jar. Her eyes blink open, shoulders slumping a bit.

“Is that it?” She snorts at the girl’s clearly unimpressed expression.

“Well, what did you expect? That she’d be knocking down the door right away?” Ellie shrugs, huffing a little as she scratches under Stevie’s chin.

“No– I mean, maybe?”

“Kid, I told you. I deal in nudges. Not full-throttle shoves.” She screws the lid onto the jar, tilting it side to side before handing it to Ellie.

“Put that somewhere that you can look at it every day. On a nightstand works best– and when you find a moment, like when you’re going to sleep, just think on it again with that same intention in mind, alright? We have a way of attracting what we focus on, if we actually focus.” Ellie nods, tilting the jar this way and that, the honey glinting in the dim light of the shop

“Alright– thank you. Um, when do you want me to start working?” Stevie leaps out of Ellie’s lap and onto the table, sniffing at the jar in the girl’s hand.

“Why don’t you come around tomorrow after school? I’ll show you how to take care of the plants– could use an extra set of hands for that chore.”

…

Ellie’s been coming in most afternoons for a little over a week now, and she has to admit, the girl’s help has been more than welcomed. She’s good with the plants, eagerly learning about what needs watered when, and what needs moved into and out of the afternoon sun streaming in through the shop windows. And Stevie certainly likes her too. She knows that Ellie is about to come into the shop when the cat jumps down from wherever she’s been perched for most of the day and pads out to the front of the shop before the door even opens. 

But one thing that she has been wondering about is what Joel thinks about this set-up. Clearly, he wants nothing to do with her, not anymore. So she reckons he must not be too happy with his kid spending every afternoon in her shop. 

“Hey, Ellie?” The girl turns from where she had been trimming away dead leaves from a potted mint plant, tilting her head in response.

“Does your dad mind that you’re working here?” Ellie seems taken aback by the question, eventually letting out a snort of laughter.

“Who, Joel? He’s not my dad. He’s my– well, he’s my– Joel. But, he doesn’t tell me what to do, y’know? I’m my own person and shit.” She nods with a smile, trying not to laugh at Ellie’s crass explanation while also fitting another puzzle piece together in her mind. It makes sense now, why she had picked up on Sarah’s name and not Ellie’s. But it’s also clear to her that whatever they are to each other, they’re close.

She turns to get back to work propagating some verbena, but stops when Ellie clears her throat.

“Um, I feel like maybe I should apologize for him. I don’t know what happened between you guys, but he likes you, I swear. He’s just– he can be a little–”

“All or nothing?” Ellie sighs.

“I was gonna say asshole-y– but yeah, that too. He tends to shut down when he’s figuring something out. But he does like you! He’d probably kill me for telling you this– but he always asks about you when I get home.” That surprises her, brows raising at Ellie’s admission. 

“Now who’s nudging who, huh?” That gets a light laugh out of Ellie, shaking her head as they both settle back into quietly working across the shop from one another. Her mind, however, is anything but silent, rolling over the fact that Joel has been asking about her like a sour candy that burns extra sweet.

…

With the town’s summer dance happening that night, she sends Ellie home early, guessing that the girl will be eager to see her crush at the festivities. Normally she wouldn’t go to something like this, not wanting all the eyes and whispers on her. But she’s just a little too curious to see who has won over Ellie’s affections, and begrudgingly decides to head down to see what all the fuss is about.

It seems like just about everyone in town has converged on what’s normally the mess hall, tables and chairs pushed out of the way to form a makeshift dance floor. There’s even live music, someone at an old piano and a few men with guitars making due with what they have. Even though she slips to the back of the room, leaning up against the wall, trying to blend in to the background, her ears still prick to the whispers starting to pass around the room about her. But she doesn’t care about that, not when she sees Ellie, dancing and laughing with another girl whom she’s pretty sure is named Dina. Her heart flips at the sight, and she can’t help but smile watching the pair transition into a very awkward slow dance. She doesn’t have much time to enjoy the scene, however, when a rough hand comes to her shoulder.

“Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence.”

…

Under any other circumstances, Joel wouldn’t be caught dead at something like this dance. But, with only a little grumbling, he decided to go along with Ellie after she mentioned that she had a date for it. There won’t be any funny business going on, not on his watch, though he has to admit that it’s nice to see her having a good time with Dina, the girl that has been making much more frequent appearances at their house lately. 

Leaning back against one of the walls of the mess hall, his eyes wander around the crowd, stuttering stopped when he sees her across the room. There’s no two ways about it, he’s been avoiding her, trying to get his mind right before he jumped any further into something he couldn’t see the bottom of.

 It felt like something clicked when Mason talked to him that night at the bar. About her meddling. Suddenly, he had to ask himself why he had fallen so quickly for her when he hadn’t been able to feel anything like that in decades. It was too good to be true. As if by– well, as if by magic. So, he’s been keeping his distance, though it’s not like that’s actually helped him resolve his feelings for her, and now, he can’t help but stare at her like a total fool, frowning when he notices the scrunch of discomfort clear on her face. That’s when he notices the man leaning next to her, his face turned down to speak directly into her ear, a hand gripping her shoulder to keep her where she is. 

Joel is moving through the crowd toward them before his brain can even catch up.

…

“Can I help you, Mason?” She keeps her eyes trained forward, only catching the sneer of his smile from the corner of her vision as he crowds up next to her. 

“Down, girl. Can’t a guy be nice? Just wanted to come by and say hello.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and jerking her chin toward him just slightly. 

“Well, you’ve said hello. Now why don’t you go find some other lucky lady to bother?” He barks out a laugh, letting it fizzle into a sigh. She can’t quite twist her face away quick enough as he brings his hand - the one that isn’t gripping her shoulder - up to graze his fingers along her cheek. 

“Don’t be like that, miss witch. I’m sorry for giving you and Miller a hard time. Though it seems like he couldn’t handle the heat.” She’s heard enough, shrugging out of his grip and shuffling through the crowd to get out of the mess hall and as far away from him as she can. But Mason is nothing if not persistent.

“Now, now, can’t say I mind a little chase, sweetheart. But let’s cut the bullshit, huh?” She chokes on a gasp when he grabs her from behind, a solid forearm barred across her chest as he pulls her into the shadows behind the mess hall, shoving her hard up against the exterior wall.

“Since Miller got a taste and is still standing, I figure I oughta find out what all the fuss is about myself.” His hands pin her against the wall by her shoulders, one heavy boot pressed over the top of her sneaker to keep her still. She can smell the liquor on his breath his face is so close to hers. It’s a reflex borne out of pure disgust when she rears her head back as best she can and spits in his face. Mason just laughs.

“Oh, little witch, you’re going to regret that.” With that, his grip on her shoulders tightens, slamming her hard against the wall, once, twice, three times, her ears ringing and her skull ricocheting from the impact. Everything goes a bit tilted in the aftermath, her brain fuzzy and spinning as she slumps back against the wall, barely registering Mason getting wrenched away from her. She steadies herself with a hand pressed to her forehead, finally realizing that someone has laid Mason out on the ground before her, fist rearing up again and again to rain down on the man’s face. 

“J-Joel?”

…

He’d like to keep punching until he feels bone shatter beneath his knuckles, his mind alight with a pure, clear rage as he batters Mason’s face. Joel hadn’t been quick enough following them out of the mess hall, and by the time he was rounding the side of the building, he only just caught the way Mason had slammed her against the wall, her head jerking like a rag doll’s. If left to his own devices, Joel reckons that he’d just keep throwing his fist down until the bastard was no longer breathing. But her voice is enough to cut through the haze, stopping him where he’s kneeling over Mason’s limp body as he whips his head around to look at her. 

Her eyes are wide, tears glinting in the fading summer light, her arms outstretched in front of her, palms open as if to reach for him. Joel’s shoulders slacken under her gaze, but before he gets up, he leans back over Mason, dragging his face up by a harsh grip on the collar of his shirt.

“If you so much as look at her again, I will know, and I won’t be feeling so generous the next time. Do you understand?” Mason’s head is crooked back on his neck, eyes drooping closed and mouth agape, blood smeared across his face. But Joel doesn’t give a shit, he just needs to hear him say it.

“Do you understand?” He punctuates his words with a harsh jerk of his hands in the man’s shirt collar, making his head jerk and loll.

“I-I understand! I understand– please– please don’t– I won’t f-f-fucking touch her, I swear!” Mason’s words come out garbled by the thick blood pooling in his mouth, but Joel has heard enough, letting go of the man’s collar and letting him slump back down onto the ground. Joel’s mind is still swimming in a hot tide of anger when he stands up, the only feeling he can really register is the smarting sting of his split knuckles. And then, a firm palm on his shoulder finally gets him to turn away from Mason’s curled-up figure. 

“We should go. I can take care of that hand for you.”

…

“A lot of plants in here.”

“Mmhmm.” She absentmindedly responds to Joel’s mumbled observation, jerkily moving around her kitchen to gather what she needs to fix up his knuckles. She doesn’t let her mind linger on the fact that he’s the first other person who has been inside her house in years, instead focusing her thoughts on the clean, damp rag in her hand as she sits down across from him at her kitchen table. She hesitates to reach for him, but he willingly offers his hand to her, his eyes a weighty heat as she starts to daub away the smeared blood on his knuckles. She works quietly, keeping her head tilted down toward the task, not daring to meet his gaze, though she feels it like a force of nature sweeping over her.

“Are you– are you alright?” Her hands still where she had been working away at his injury, and she has to take a deep breath to smooth the warble in her throat before she answers him.

“I-I’m fine– just a little shaken up– um, literally.” It’s a horrible attempt at a joke to lighten the mood, she knows it the second the words leave her mouth, his hand curling into a fist on the table.

“I am fine, really. Thank you– for stopping him. I wouldn’t have been able– I couldn’t–” He stops her stuttered words, resting his palm over both of her shaking hands on the table. Her eyes finally meet his, and for a moment, there’s just sweetness. But then she remembers the reality that it took her nearly getting assaulted for Joel to stop avoiding her, and she quickly jerks her hands away from his, scrubbing harshly at her eyes with the heels of her palms. 

“Why did you– how– why were you out there?” He sighs, long and low, sitting back in his chair.

“I saw him bothering you in the mess hall. Guess I followed you out.”

“Why?” She can’t look at him, not right now, or she’ll get tangled up all over again. So instead, she keeps her eyes on her hands clasped in front of her on the table, listening to the huff he lets out at her question.

“Just wanted to make sure you were alright.” She can’t help the bitter laugh that spills out at that, looking up at him, his brow furrowed at her reaction.

“I’m sorry, I guess I have a hard time believing that when you haven’t so much as looked at me in nearly a month.” Joel presses his lips in a thin line, his jaw ticking slightly as he looks at her. 

“I’ll admit that I’ve been– keeping my distance–” She scoffs at his choice of words, but he continues speaking.

“But you didn’t tell me the whole truth.” That gives her pause, her fidgeting fingers going still at the stern tinge to his voice. Before she answers, she takes his hand back in hers, getting back to work on wrapping his already swelling knuckles. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Heard a little more about you. How you like getting involved in other people’s business.” “I thought you didn’t care what other people said about me.” He lets out a harsh sigh, pulling his now bandaged hand away and raking his fingers through his hair, tugging lightly in clear frustration.

“It’s a little hard not to when it seems like you’re not being straight with me, darlin.” She tries to tamp it down, but her chest still squeezes at the term of endearment, though she’s quick to clear her throat of the rising feeling.

“Ellie told me about your– nudges? S’what she called them, I think.” Her stomach twists at that. Though it’s not exactly a secret that she has a proclivity for helping folks, mostly women, with their troubled love lives, she had been trying to keep that away from him. She hadn’t even considered that Ellie would tell him about it, a stupid mistake, she realizes. Anyways, it’s become a lot rarer for someone to come to her for that, Ellie the first in many months, though she can admit that she used to be a lot more involved, and a lot less subtle with it.

“I just– I need you to be real honest with me right now. Did you– do something to me?” That makes her laugh, any anxiety quickly getting displaced by anger. Yep, just like the rest of them.

“Is it so hard to believe you liked me that you need to explain it away with fucking magic?” She spits out the word as if it sits sour on her tongue, her eyes narrowing at him. When he doesn’t answer, lips parted and wide eyes just staring at her, she lets out another laugh.

“Believe this, Joel. I didn’t do anything to you. I don’t do things to people, that’s not how I work, no matter what anyone tells you.” Finished talking, she slumps back in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose as a throbbing headache settles in. 

“You said liked?” She cracks one eye open, seeing him now leaning forward, his hands clasped on the table as he looks at her.

“What– what’re you talking about?”

“You said I liked you– like I don’t anymore.” 

“Don’t you?” He shakes his head, eyes shimmering in the dim light of her kitchen. 

“No– I mean, I never stopped– liking you, that is. Fuck– I feel so lost, darlin. You gotta understand that I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Didn’t think I ever would again. And then– then you show up and I-I feel like I’m back in highschool or some shit. You’ve got me smitten like a fucking fool and I barely know you– and it feels impossible.” She’s a bit shocked by his words, musing to herself that this might be the most she’s heard Joel say at once. And apparently he isn’t done either.

“I want this, want you, probably more than I should. But Christ, I don’t think I can do this unless you tell me the whole story, your whole story.” She sees her path forked so clearly in that moment. She could shut down and throw him out, tell Ellie that she won’t be needing her help anymore, sever these threads just as she’s gotten so good at doing. But the truth is, she feels much the way Joel does. This is uncharted territory for her, these threads that she doesn’t want to cut, but instead tug closer and closer. And so, she makes the choice to walk a path that she hasn’t ever before. 

When she finally speaks, she starts at the beginning. 

[tashacee]

ALSO

Mask!Wild meets Aspect!Wild

Mask is so confused why this seven-foot-something lion man (with scarring a lot like his???) keeps hugging him and giving him stuff

Aspect takes one look at this version of himself and says "I call dibs on adopting him, screw you Time"

This ended up SO long but oh well

Aspects of a Mask

Wild hadn’t meant to cause trouble. The Temple was complete, the boss dead, and the treasure looted and divided between everyone’s bags. When he spied the two little statuettes at the side of the room, his only thought had been to straighten them where they stood on their little shelf. They were sweet little things, two identical brothers made of jade, and it would have been a shame to leave them sitting lopsided.

But of course, nothing was ever as simple as that. Wild straightened the figure on the right and all of a sudden there was flash of blinding light and a disjointed voice echoed through the boss chamber.

Wild didn’t catch all of what it said. Didn’t matter. The Chain got the gist of it. 

In a universe running parallel with theirs was another Chain, and the parallel hero to the one who had touched the statuette would be coming through to meet them. Something about meeting yourself to know yourself to -

It was a lot of mystical sounding mambo jumbo, but Wild was pretty sure thaat it was just whatever Wizard enchanted the statuettes way of messing with wayward explorers who picked them up.

Wild squeaked in horror and put the statuette down again, skittering backwards in alarm. It made no difference, though. The light had solidified and shifted to the middle of the room, hovering a few feet above the ground and growing in size, shifting into a portal.

Oh Hylia. What had he done? Wild gasped and found himself signing apologies, that he hadn’t meant to do anything, but his hands were shaking so much that it was hardly understandable. He was backing away and only stopped when he ran into Time, his oldest brother’s armour clatterng.

Time placed his hands gently on Wild’s shoulders, squeezing slightly.

“Hey.” he said softly. “Wild. It’ll be alright.”

Wild shook his head but still couldn’t speak. His mask felt unbearably tight on his face. The walls of the temple seemed to be pressing in. He had to get out, had to go somewhere with wide spaces and fresh air. He couldn’t be here. He didn’t want to meet himself from another timeline. Hylia only knew what he’d be like. Would he be the same as Wild? Would his face be-

Or would he be untouched? Would it be him, but the him who didn’t fail?

Wild shook his head and pulled out of Time’s grasp, backing away from the growing portal. Whatever was going to fall through it, he didn’t want to see. Wild had enough trouble dealing with himself at the best of times, having to face another of himself?

Absolutely not.

“Wild?” that was Twilight now.

Wild looked over and saw his brother looking at him in alarm. He was holding an arm out, inviting Wild to come to him if he wanted. His pelt looked warm and inviting, but the thought of being near someone right now was almost too much to handle.

Well, if Wild could say one thing about what happened next, it at least stopped him from having to make his mind up about what to do.

The light flashed. Something - someone? - yelped. Someone fell through the portal with the crash and the light vanished, leaving the Chain staring at what was lying on the ground before them.

It-

It did not look like Wild.

It was a massive, bestial creature, covered in fur and more cat than person. The left side of its body was coated with scars, and it wore a sarong about its waist and was covered in tattoos and jewellery that spoke of some sort of intelligence and culture.

The chain all reached for their swords, just in case, and the creature looked up. Its eyes were bright and blue as it looked around at them all. It lifted its hands.

“Warriors.” it signed. “I swear to Hylia if you shoot me again-”

Wait. What?

Was this - the creature recognised Warriors. It seemed to recognise them all, from how it looked around at them all with something akin to amusement. Wild peered through the crowd of his brothers as it stood, taking in the scars that laced its body. There were less than on his own body and face, but they were still familiar, and the placement of the craters on its chest-

Was this-

“Wild?” Twilight asked.

The creature seemed surprised at being addressed by the rancher, but nodded, giving him a thumbs up. “That’s me.” it - he - said. “I touched a weird statue thing and now i apparently get to hang out with you all for a week.”

What?

The Chain all relaxed and began to sheathe their swords, all moving forwards to greet their temporary new brother. Wild hung back, ducking into Twilight’s shadow.

“You-” Sky began to say and cleared his throat. “You recognised us?” he observed.

Other-Wild seemed fascinated by Sky, bending over to peer into his eyes. “You can see me!” he signed.

Sky frowned. “...yes?”

Other-Wild laughed, a strange, animal sound. “Neat! Yeah I recognised you. I know I look weird. My Chain don’t look like this, it’s just me. I tried on a magic outfit and got stuck in this body. We’re working on it. It’s a whole thing.” he shrugged, as if this was a perfectly normal thing to say. Then his eyes landed on Wind and Spirit and he yipped. “Two of you!” he signed.

Wind cackled. “Hell yeah, two of us! I’m Wind and he’s Spirit!”

Other-Wild blinked and then shrugged. “Sweet.” he said. “I want a picture.”

Then he looked around and his eyes landed on Wild.

There was no hiding any more. His brother all turned towards him, and while Twilight still stayed by his side, he felt horribly exposed. Other-Wild stepped towards him, rumbling curiously and - oh Hylia he had a tail! - tail waving slowly behind him.

“Nice mask!” he signed. “Fashion Queen!”

Beside him, Wild felt Twilight tense, but something inside him loosened at the words. He started to giggle.

“Fashion Queen!” he agreed, all nerves suddenly gone. 

It was a joke that he had never told anyone, not even Flora. Once at a stable someone had ridden past in the most ludicrous outfit that Wild had ever seen, brightly coloured mismatched silks and bells and jewels and glistening gold braid. It was an incredible, more than slightly ridiculous sight. Wild, along with everyone else, had openly stared as they passed. And then, after a moment of silence, a little girl who had been staying with her parents, exclaimed ‘A Fashion Queen!’

The whole stable had burst into laughter, and ever since then Wild had, whenever he tried something new on, thought about that moment. About ‘fashion queen’. It was silly, but it was fun. If this creature, if this person knew about that, then-

“You are me?” Wild asked incredulously.

The cat-man shrugged. “Guess so.” he tilted his head, big eyes flicking up and down Wild’s body, taking him in. Wild felt himself draw inwards, flushing under the scrutiny. 

Much as he found this new, cat-version of himself interesting, he couldn’t help but see his scars. They wrapped around a solid half of his body, and while they didn’t cover as much of him as they did Wild, while they didn’t destroy his face in the same way, it was still striking how confidently he bared them to the world.

This Wild wasn’t trying to hide his scars. He was bare chested and didn’t seem to care who saw them. Would he judge Wild for his mask, for his loose clothes? This was what he dreaded. He already had enough inner feelings about himself, the idea of another him condemning him-

The Other-Wild purred and closed the gap between them. “Can we get out of this temple? It’s stuffy in here.” his signs were light and conversational as he brushed his tail against Wild’s side and then draped it companionably around his waist. “You like to cook? I do, but my Chain are hopeless…”

The conversation went on like this, gentle and cheerful and undemanding. Wild found himself relaxing around his new brother-self, who was so unlike him but also so very very like him.

The week went by in a blink of an eye. Wild and Wild, to everyone’s surprise, most of all their own, spent hours together, chatting or cooking or even just curled up and dozing. They both had a habit of wandering off and no one had a clue where they were until Twilight stumbled into them, both in their underwear, shield surfing down the side of a very steep hill.

He backed away and never mentioned it to anyone.

Terrified as he had been to meet himself from another universe, now that he had gotten to know Other-Wild, Wild didn’t want to lose him. When the end of the week finally rolled around he clung to his brother-self, tearful as he bade him goodbye.

Other-Wild knelt before him to be eye level and pulled him into a tight hug.

“We will meet again.” he promised. “I’ll fight Hylia myself.”

Wild giggled wetly. From what he’d learned of his other self this past week, he believed it.

Other-Wild glanced around and then leaned in so that no one else could see what he said. “You can trust them.” he said, gesturing to the chain. “Trust me. They all love you. They’ll never judge you. I promise.”

Wild had tearfully showed him his face a few days ago, but he hadn’t received any of the censure that he had expected. Instead Other-Wild had given him only love and understanding, and had shown him a selection of his own most gruesome scars, including the stump of his missing arm.

Wild hugged him again, burying his head into his fur. Other-Wild rumbled and held him a moment more, and then the portal appeared behind him. He straightened, purred once more as he waved to the Chain, and was gone.

Beneath his mask, Wild felt himself smile. It may have only been a week, but something fundamental felt changed inside of him. He felt a little happier, a little more confident.

Wild turned and jogged over to Twilight’s side, taking his brother’s hand and burying himself into his side.

Somehow, he felt, everything would be alright.

[bohbee]

Genshin characters reacting to GN reader falling asleep.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Masterlist

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Venti.

Warnings: Drunk (y/n)[Diluc], scared kaeya?, spoilers for some characters.

Notes: I have literally never used Tumblr before, but I am going to attempt

:)

Aether (& paimon ig lmao)

You and Aether had just completed several commissions, and now the two of you were sitting underneath a tree just outside of Liyue Harbor. A small breeze hit as Paimon spoke aloud "Man today sure was rough, Paimon thinks we deserved more than we got!" The small floating human stomped in the air, causing Aether to laugh. He went to respond, but a thump on his shoulder stopped him from doing so. His golden eyes looked down at his arm only to find you, his beautiful lover slumped over. Your eyes were closed, and your mouth slightly agape.

The blonde male smiled softly and kissed your forehead, "Let's go to the Baiju Guesthouse. It seems like those commissions exhausted them." He said with a soft giggle to Paimon, his arms carefully scooping you up bridal style as he headed to the inn.

Aethers floating companion opened to door for the two of you. He walked over to the bed, carefully placing you on the mattress and covering you with the blanket. He would then crawl in beside you, holding your body close, giving a soft kiss to your cheek.

(Paimon got lonely in the other bed and flew over and sprawled over the two of you)

Albedo

The heavy sharp sounds of the cold wind of Dragonspine could be heard from the entrance of the cave. You were Albedos assistant and lover, of course. The two of you were up late sorting through papers to find the results for a very old test. "Dear, do you think we had let Sucrose lend it? I am fairly certain she might know where it is." the blonde male asked. However, he did not get a response, causing him to turn around confused. "Dear-" he cut himself off at the sight of you, papers sprawled around the desk, your head laying on your arm, as your body slightly shivered.

He let out a rare smile and walked over to you, savoring the moment. He took off his coat and laid it on your shoulders, giving you a chaste kiss on your neck. "Sleep well, I love you dear" he said softly.

Diluc

Whenever Diluc would take a shift at the Tavern, you would always go with him. Sitting near him while he worked diligently, it wasn't often you would get drunk.... However, tonight was surely an exception. Venti, Kaeya, and Rosaria had sat around you laughing and drinking. And thus, here we are. The Tavern was loud. Laughter and clanking could be heard on both floors.

Diluc huffed and turned his head to his beautiful lover. Your cheek was smushed as your head laid on Kaeyas shoulder. The red-haired brother knew you were his, but it irked him to see his lover on the blue haired male. Kaeya smirked at his brothers scowl, "Don't worry 'luc, they're all yours." he said waving his free arm around.

Once the Tavern closed, he softly grabbed you, hoisting you on his back as he walked towards his winery. He smiled softly as you mumbled something in your sleep, "What am I gonna do with you, my love?"

Kaeya

The blue-haired captain of the Knights of Favonius often worked late, leaving you alone at your shared home. However, you would always stay awake and waited for him to make sure he would come back safe. Though tonight was a very long night, keys could be heard jingling the doornob. The door opened, revealing an exhausted cyro user, who luckily had a day off tomorrow. His brow raised up high as he realized his lover wasn't their to greet him, panic settled it. Yeah, he probably should've thought it through, but he wasn't in the right mind for that. Kaeya raced around the house, his thoughts jumbling around, thinking his past had finally caught up to him, taking the one thing he cherished most. However, his fearful thinking came to an end as he saw your gorgeous face pressed against your book, you slow breaths softly moving the pages.

He breathed out heavily, moving your chair ever so slightly. He carefully picked you up and walked towards your room, causing you to grumble a bit. "Shh now darling, I'm here I'm here."

Venti

It wasn't often that the loud couple was seen separated, but Venti had duties as an Archon. Today, he had left to see his long-time friend Dvalin. You walked around Mondstat quickly getting bored without your loud bard around, so you decided to fix that, and you walked over to Windrise.

The sun set as Venti finished his hangout. He said a quick goodbye and headed over to his city of Mondstat. However, he knew you weren't there, the winds guided him to his beloved. Venti let out an "ehe" as he saw you curled up at the base of his statue. He walked up to you and laid his head on your lap, interlacing his fingers with yours. His beautiful eyes stared at your precious face. "Sleep well, my windblume." he said before closing his eyes.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

Okay I hope that was atleast alright? I'll probably do a part two in like 30 minutes

[ro-sham-no]

Sam dies again, shortly after being resurrected by Dean’s crossroad demon deal. It was an accident, just a hazard of the job. Dean couldn’t stop it. 

Dean goes crazy after it happens. He has no more soul left to bargain with. He goes numb.

He couldn’t care less about his inevitable, one-way trip to Hell, the moot deal that it now is. Nothing could be worse than this wretched hopelessness, the gnawing blackness that grows inside him with every passing moment. His thoughts plague him,

Is Sam even in heaven? After all the demons’ taunts about him coming back Wrong- had Dean doomed him, his baby brother, his son, his boy, to Hell?

Sammy's gone, and Dean’s soul is still sold, and it's so unfair-

Dean’s kept Sam’s corpse- Sam, he’s kept Sam, again. Has laid him out on a shitty, stained mattress. Again. He’s also laid out every single fireable weapon in their considerable arsenal next to Sam on the bed, all loaded. Every second that goes by, the itch to grab them gets stronger. 

He’s out of options. Trying another crossroads demon had done nothing. Frantic, useless researching about resurrection, which he’d already done the first time - nothing. Praying to god, for the first time ever, saying please, please, I know I’m fresh out of any sort of Grace, but surely you can see that He’s not. Sammy doesn’t deserve to be in Hell, please-

Nothing.

The guns on the mattress glare at him. All gleaming, metallic resilience, taunting him, sitting so starkly cold next to Dean’s dead baby brother. Dean’s hands haven’t given up their tell-tale tremor since it happened. Since Sam---

The tremor is one that he’s felt on and off throughout the years - only appearing on those not-so-rare occasions where Sam had taken hits just hard enough, gotten cuts just deep enough that Dean would have the Thought strike through him like lightning,

Sam might not come back from this one.

The end of Dean’s sleeve is soaked as it covers his trembling hand, what is probably snot and spit mixing in with more and more tears as he alternates between pitiful comforts. Wedging his shaking hands deep into the sockets of his eyes as he convulses through his sobs and cries, then shifting them to press tensely against his teeth through his lips, trying in vain to calm down and keep quiet, and then moving to his nose to wipe away the aftermath and start all over again.

Sam’s not coming back from this one. 

I failed. 

It’s over.

Dean abruptly stands, shoving and tearing the guns away, violently shoving his sleeve to his face to dry it, having to move up higher on his arm each time as his sleeves caught more of his heart leaking out of his eyes, nose, and mouth. He lets all but Sam’s beloved Taurus recklessly fall to the floor.

His stupid, beloved Taurus that the kid’d saved up enough money to buy for himself - all honest-earned money, after getting a grocery store job he applied for the second he turned 14. Cheap-ass Brazilian gun, Dad had called it with derision, but he’d let Sam buy it all the same.

Dean had thought, at the time, that Sam’s choice of gun was just because it was, in fact, affordable and non-American (Sam was never shy about his lack of patriotism, even when Dad gave him all the more hell for it). But he hadn’t caught Sam slipping away to pawn shops and military resale stores while Dad was away and Dean worked dead-end odd jobs to pay the bills like civilians for a while. But then Sam had found it, them, and then Dean had certainly noticed.

See, when Sam had first gotten the thing, it came with practical black grips. Factory standard, since Sam had wanted it new - forever a priss about owning something that wasn’t secondhand. But then, unbeknownst to Dean, Sam had searched high and low to find what he wanted, what he knew existed because he had seen it in a gun magazine once (he had frantically torn out the page as soon as he saw it, hidden in the back of the gas station and waiting for Dean to stop flirting with the cashier). So, Sam had saved up and played the long game, pawn shop after pawn shop, and it paid off.

He’d replaced the black grips - not speaking a peep to either Dean or Dad about it - with pearl ones. And sure, it wasn’t ivory, necessarily, and the stainless steel of the Taurus wasn’t exactly nickel-plated, but the effect was the same. 

Sam’s very first gun of his own, which he bought with his own, labor-earned cash, oh-so-clearly fashioned after Dean’s.

And now here it is, cradled against Dean’s chest. He’d crawled into bed with Sam at some point during his weepy recollection, resting his head on Sam’s chest in oppositional mimicry of how they would lay together as kids. Sam, curled up under Dean’s chin, forever trying to make himself smaller in Dean’s arms even as he grew bigger. 

But it’s Dean’s turn to be small. Dean’s turn, as he tugs Sam’s (cold, lifeless) arm over his back in a weak embrace, slipping his arm around Sam as best he can, squeezing and holding tight as he shakes apart. Sam’s Taurus is gripped surely in Dean’s hand, pressed under his chin. 

His Colt, after which the Taurus had been so lovingly, painstakingly fashioned, lies discarded on the ground.

[adrift-in-thyme]

@skyward-floored and I both noticed Warriors looking less than comfortable in Jojo's latest art and thought 'wait is he afraid of heights??' As someone who is VERY afraid of heights I naturally had to latch onto the idea...and write something about it. Sorry, Wars

CW for blood/injury, mentions of vomit, and descriptions of panic and fear of heights

----------------------------------

In no universe is this enjoyable.

Warriors stares down, transfixed by the sky and clouds beneath him, (beneath him — by the golden three they should be above him, ABOVE HIM like normal). His limbs are leaden, his thoughts scrambling, panicked. His mouth is dry as the Gerudo Desert.

He swallows, forces saliva down a too-tight throat. He and heights never truly have gotten along. But this is a new extreme. 

He’s never been this high before. He’s never been atop an island in the sky. It’s something he was very much fine, never having done. In fact, he was much more fine before the Shadow had decided it would be wonderfully comical to dump them here. 

To Sky, it had been the best thing since pumpkin soup. He was home, after all. Warriors can’t blame the guy.

Still…

He drags his foot away from where it had crept worrying close to the edge. How exactly had that happened?

Still, why on Hylia’s green earth does the hero have to live IN THE SKY?

Warriors glances over to where Sky is eagerly showing off his loftwing to Wild and Hyrule. A short ways away, Time converses with Gaepora. Not far from him, Legend and Wind seem to be engaging in a game of some sort. 

Warriors squints. Are they…are they hurling those strange, little creatures off of Skyloft to see them fly back? Well, not anymore, because here comes Twilight to save the poor things. Not that they had seemed to mind much…

The rancher catches Warriors watching and shakes his head. 

Can you believe these two? His gaze seems to ask.

Warriors dredges up a dry smirk. 

Try dealing with that behavior 24/7, he mouths.

Twilight frowns. I do, is his silent response. Then, his brows dip further, expression losing its exasperated humor. He walks forward, a tiny creature cradled in his arms. Still very much paralyzed, Warriors watches helplessly as he advances.

“Rancher,” he says, cordially, once the hero is beside him – or more in front of him. (Why Twilight has chosen to stand with his toes off the edge of the island, Warriors has absolutely no idea. All he knows is that it makes his legs go numb. He forces himself to look forward instead.)

“Captain,” Twilight replies. He shifts and Warriors’ stomach somersaults. “Are you doin’ alright? You look a little pale.”

“Do I?” Warriors chuckles. It sounds too harsh, too loud. “Must not be spending enough time in the sun.”

Twilight gives him an unenthused look. Warriors grins. The expression feels as wrong as his laugh. Too wide, too brittle. 

Why does everything just seem off right now?

“Don’t worry about me, rancher. I’m alright.”

Twilight studies him for a moment, eyes narrowed. He opens his mouth, no doubt gearing up to pry further. But Four’s voice rings out before he can, beckoning him to come inspect one thing or another. Warriors can’t truly make out the words. Maybe that’s because his ears are filled with the sound of rushing wind.

Is it the wind? Or is it coming from inside of him, stealing away his remaining balance and setting his stomach churning?

“Well, take care of yourself,” Twilight says. He sets a hand on Warriors’ shoulder, with a small smile. “And be careful. Can’t have you fallin’ off the edge there.”

Warriors looks down and immediately regrets it. He hardly registers Twilight walking away, doesn’t hear his brother’s lively voices as they enjoy the wonders of Sky’s home. All he can see is the drop off he is certain that he is mere inches from plunging off of. His line of vision narrows, darkening at the edges, and he stumbles back, arms wrapped protectively around his middle. 

“Captain?” Time is suddenly holding him, keeping him from toppling. “Are you well?”

Warriors swallows hard. “Fine, Sprite. 

“Just fine.”

It’s only the lack of a substantial breakfast that morning that prevents him from getting sick all over the old man’s shoes. ----------------

The next few days are torture. Warriors does his best to keep his distance from the edges of the island. But it is nearly impossible in a place so compact as Skyloft. And the sparse fences constructed around hardly seem enough to keep him from plunging off. 

So, he spends most of his time indoors (praying to any goddess who may listen that there won’t be a sudden earthquake that sends the building careening down into nothingness). 

His excuses are few and paltry. 

“I don’t feel well.” “I’m tired after the journey.” “I need to think about an actual plan to track down the Shadow before he gets too far ahead.”

The heroes can see right through him – he is certain of it. And none more than Time.

“Tell me what I can do, captain,” he says one night when Warriors awakens screaming after a dream of plunging into a sky of flame. (And wow, does that commotion help him maintain his secrecy and uphold his reputation. He’s doing wonderfully.) “Please, I want to help.”

Warriors’ breath hitches as he slumps into his little brother’s arms. Here, with the two of them there is nothing to hide anyway. He couldn’t even if he tried.

“You can get me off this cursed island,” he says, with a dry chuckle. “That would be lovely.”

Time merely sighs and holds him closer. 

They both know he can’t do that.

…just as he cannot keep away the monsters the Shadow sends after them the next day.

Venturing outside of the academy to fight off a hoard of monsters is not exactly something Warriors had wanted to do. He is a hero, however, and he refuses to leave his brothers to battle them alone. So, out he comes into the light of the day, with his heart in his throat and his chest feeling like Ganondorf is sitting on top of it.

“I’m sorry that you have to do this,” Time murmurs as they head toward the tell tale screeches (in the plaza, of course).

Warriors shrugs, somewhat stiffly. “Who knows? I could get lucky.” He sends Time a grin and plunges his sword into the first of the monsters. “Maybe the Shadow will open another portal.”

Time smirks. “Perhaps, he will.”

-----------------

The fight drags on all morning. Warriors fares well enough through it. He remains in the center of the plaza as often as he can and his brothers take care of the stragglers around the edges. He does his best not to look at them when they toe the edge, heedless of certain death less than inches away.

And he fights on with the same ferocity as he always does.

…until about midmorning. Because that’s when the moblin shows up. 

It is one of Sky’s – hulking and corpulent and capable of taking at least ten bokoblins with one hefty swing of its spear. But he has fought this kind before. With a smirk, he rushes forward to engage it.

He hacks away at its shield easily, then readies himself to dodge as it roars in rage. It rears back, then bends its head, smoke puffing out of its nostrils. 

Warriors raises an eyebrow. He hefts his sword more firmly into his hand.

“You gonna come and get me?”

It roars again and breaks into a run. He steels himself, tensed for the strike. One second, two, three…

“Warriors look out!”

Something hits him from behind – something big and bulky and heavy. It slams into his side, breaking bones on impact. He gasps, vision going spotty. 

And suddenly he is flying. His feet leave the ground and he is tumbling, head over heels through the air. The world is a blur of color, up is down and left is right. He is almost certain that he’s going to be sick.

Then, it’s over. He hits the ground in a tangle of limbs and fabric. Blood fills his mouth and he chokes on it. 

“Captain!”

Running feet sound in his ears. He blinks, dazedly, trying to bring everything back into focus. It feels like the moblin has taken to tap dancing on his skull.

“Ugh…”

“Captain!”

There is panic in that voice, he realizes sluggishly. There must be a reason for that, there has to be…

His vision clears just enough that he can make out a gigantic something looming above him. He tries to push himself up for a better look, but his upper half seems to be on a slightly different level than his bottom half. When he allows himself to lay down fully he sees only sky.

Ah…that would explain it.

Panic pierces him far deeper than any spear ever could. He digs his fingernails into the grooves in the pavement, gritting his teeth against the pain and oncoming unconsciousness.

Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out…

“Captain!”

He tries once more to pull himself up and fails. 

Warriors lets out a grow of aggravation. He really wishes his brothers would exert more energy on fighting off this thing and getting him back on land than yelling his title repeatedly.

…though maybe he has heard it a few more times than they have really said it. 

The monster raises its weapon just as Twilight comes out of nowhere, leaping forward to skewer it. The rancher’s sword strikes home seconds before the monster’s can, piercing it through. And the next thing Warriors knows, he’s staring up at the concerned face of his brother.

“Are you alright?”

Twilight leans forward, grabbing his hand and supporting his back as he drags him away from the edge. Warriors slumps against him with a relieved sigh.

“Just great,” he slurs and Twilight chuckles. 

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you a potion and you’ll be just – ”

Warriors isn’t entirely certain what happens. He is too dazed to comprehend the events that occur in quick succession.

One moment he is held in Twilight’s arms and the next, the rancher is wrenched away from him with a grunt of pain and shock. Then, something collides with Warriors’ chest…

And he’s falling.

His stomach turns to lead, the wind rushes past at breakneck speeds, his scarf tangles about his limbs. Panic courses through his veins, beating in time with his pounding head and thumping heart. It encases him like a vice, paralyzing him, chasing away all other feelings, all other sensations save for icy, thick, undefeatable terror.

Warriors shuts his eyes and grits his teeth. He can’t breathe. He’s going to be sick, he’s sure of it.

…Or maybe he’ll die before that happens. Maybe he’ll collide with the hard ground and in a quiet, contained explosion of agony be gone. 

And after he had just gotten up the courage to propose to Arty too. Isn’t that just his luck.

“Hold on, Wars!”

An inhuman cry rings out, free and brave and strangely familiar. In the next moment Warriors’ lands with something blessedly solid. Arms wrap around him, warm and strong. A heart beats fast beneath the chest he collapses against. 

“I’ve got you, captain,” Sky breathes. “I’ve got you.”

He drapes his sail cloth over Warriors’ trembling shoulders. Warriors clutches it so tightly his fingers ache. 

“Get me somewhere low to the ground,” he whispers, in between haggard breaths. “Please.”

“Don’t worry.” Sky’s voice is kind. “I’m bringing you to the Surface.”

The Surface. That sounds promising. Warriors can only hope that it is as solidly on the ground as the name suggests.

He won’t see it if it is, though. He keeps his eyes stubbornly closed the entire trip.

---------------

The Surface, it turns out, is just plain, old Hyrule. Which, in Warriors’ book, is pure heaven. 

“I still can’t believe no one thought to tell me about this place,” he gripes as he limps out of Sky and Sun’s cozy, little cottage, two days later. “Why would anyone want to stay up in the sky when we could be down here, on the ground?”

Twilight smirks. The rancher has been cooped up with him for the last few days as they healed from the injuries they got on Skyloft. And Warriors has to admit that he has appreciated his company. 

“I still can’t believe you’re afraid of heights.” Twilight grins innocently at him. “The great Captain of the Hyrulean Army, scared of a little sky island.”

His tone is light and teasing and Warriors feels no pain from the jabs. But he scowls anyway.

“I’m scared of falling off a ‘little sky island.’ Which, coincidentally, I did and nearly died. Given that, I’d say the fear is warranted.”

Twilight hums. “So, what you’re saying is fear of heights is really a fear of falling.”

Warriors sighs. He looks out over the small town Sky and Sun are building, smiling slightly as he spots Time and Wind fishing in a nearby stream. It’s lovely, really, how he’ll be able to enjoy those activities with them now that he isn’t trapped in the grip of nauseating fear.

“I don’t know, rancher,” he says, shrugging. “Call it what you want. All I can say is that I want my feet firmly on the ground.”

[skyahri]

I'm Ready Now |Sasuke X Reader| HC

Summary: You and Sasuke are long-term friends. He's finally decided he's ready to be with you, but you had no idea what had been motivating him all along.

Warnings: Modern AU. Club scene. SFW.

- - - - -

You've known Sasuke since high school.

You've stuck by him through everything- when his brother was arrested, when he hated everyone and everything, when he rebelled and became a sort of man whore junior year, and even now into adulthood after he simmered down.

But now he was acting odd, and you aren't the only one who's noticed.

Each of your mutual friends had come to you about Sasuke's subtle change in behavior over the past six or so months.

Sakura was the first to ask you about it, wondering if you had picked up on the shift in his demeanor. Then Ino, Sai, Kankuro, and so on.

The biggest change was his newfound confidence.

Not that he wasn't confident before, but this new wave was more... earned. He used to be so entitled and full of himself, so the maturity brought on by this change was refreshing.

You were going to ask Sasuke about it, but you couldn't find the right time.

He had recently taken over the family business, and it was taking up a lot of his time and energy.

When he was young, after his brother had killed their parents, the company was temporarily taken over by a team of advisors until Sasuke was deemed fit to run it.

After receiving his bachelor's in business management and going through several summers of internships, he was given control and promoted to CEO.

That was right around the time he had started to act out of the ordinary.

That's what brings us to today.

It's Saturday, aka the day the whole gang hangs out. Despite how busy Sasuke had become, he always made sure to prioritize it.

He claims it's because Naruto would throw a tantrum, which is true, but you all know he actually enjoys the time together even if he complains.

He'd come to pick you up, a normal occurrence since he had a car, and you did not.

Tonight, you were all meeting up at a club downtown.

The place is packed, but Kiba was able to reserve a table for everyone to sit at.

It was a bit crowded, but that's to be expected from forcing seventeen people into a twelve person booth.

You're a bit too close to Sasuke, but you don't mind. He's cool and comfortable, unlike some of the other men at the table, so it's not awkward.

He slides his arm along the back of the booth to give you a bit more room.

You notice his cologne, the same one he's worn for the past several years. You've always liked it and encouraged him early on to wear it more often.

Once sat, Naruto immediately ordered a round of shots for the table.

And then another.

And another.

And another.

With a little liquid courage, the girls had managed to drag their boyfriends to the dance floor.

It wasn't really your scene, so you opted to hang back with the more introverted members of the group: Shikamaru, Gaara, Shino, and Sasuke.

Hinata would've gladly stayed too, if not for Naruto literally dragging her along.

You were happily chatting with the guys before you were forced asked by Ino and Sakura to retrieve more drinks.

Sasuke offered to go with you since there was no way you could carry so many glasses.

The bartender was busy, so you two hung off to the side for a moment while the wave passed.

You decided now was the time to confront him about his change in behavior.

"You've been different lately."

"Different? How so?"

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was playing dumb, something he did often when trying to politely avoid a subject.

"I'm worried about you, you know. You're not the same Sasuke anymore."

"Is that such a bad thing?"

Ah, so he was plenty aware of it.

"Not necessarily. I just want to know whats going on with you. You can talk to me."

Sasuke thought for a moment. He was nervous, well as nervous as he could manage to be.

"I've inherited my family's company."

You looked at him confused.

"I have a degree, I own my apartment, I have a stable career. I have even cleared my family's name in the eyes of the public."

You just continued to look at him, more lost than you were a second ago. What was he getting at? Why would this be bothering him?

"I am finally a man worthy of even asking you for a chance."

Oh?

Oh.

Was he..? Did he really..?

"What?" It's all you can manage to get out.

"You deserve a good man who can provide you with a good life. I've worked hard these past few years to be that man, so I can ask for your hand."

You didn't know what to say. How could you after such a bold proclamation?

So you didn't say anything.

You just tilted your head up to kiss him.

It was perfect- your hands on his chest, one of his on your face, and the other sliding into your hair. The smell of his cologne and fabric of his black button-up.

His lips were surprisingly soft. He's a good kisser, but that's less surprising considering how often he'd gotten around in his youth.

You broke away, and your hands slid down so they could interlock with his.

"Sasuke," you'd stare at him softly, "You've always been a worthy man. Money and status don't change anything."

After that night, he stayed the same new Sasuke, but there was a more relaxed air to him.

You'd hoped to keep things under wraps for longer, but Naruto had apparently seen you guys kiss at the club, and news spread pretty fast after that.

Not that Sasuke minded, no. He liked being able to give you passing touches and brief kisses. He liked being able to look at you without suspicion.

Things were good now.

[furrytalebeard]

Mike and pops

Right where did we leave off. Well my former athletic brother was a bumbling adult baby and my dad who was a rough basketball coach was now my boyfriend. My dad also switched careers somewhere along the reality shifts to being a professor, probably to help with the fact my brother now has low intelligence and no athletic skills.

At first it was weird having a now sort of nerdy father but what was more weird was after switching his expectations for me to love, he was completely infatuated with me. It was great before this my brother got all the love, of course he still got attention being a pants pooper but my father swooned over me. I’d started calling him Travis, his first name as we were more like boyfriends now if anything.

Travis walked into the room and saw me and smiled, opening his arms for a hug. "If it isn’t my beautiful boyfriend and son Mike. He said as I shyly hugged him, feeling his large round belly. It was still awkward being doted on so much, something I wasn’t used to. One thing I noticed ever since my dad switched to being a professor is that he hardly had time to workout and he was only getting larger. Before this he had sort of a muscle gut, and would workout with Joel. Now when he wasn’t teaching he was changing diapers or giving private lessons. I wanted to make a switch, see if I could speedrun his own gains. I switched out the traits of fat, with muscular I watched as his suit began to become loose as his muscles bulged out.

For a moment he was stunned before he grabbed me and pulled me into another much more forceful hug. "Sorry son just really felt like squeezing you, hehe" he said as I got a face full of his hard abs. In an instant I regretted my decision, his fat belly felt much nicer and now it was like hugging a body builder over my fat attractive dad. The problem was I couldn’t easily override changes I’d just made so I’d have to swap out other traits to get the desired results. I figured reality might shift in my favor if I made my dad a bit lazier. So I switched out his traits of hard working, with laziness. Instantly my father’s weight began to return to match this change in traits, even his sense of style began to vanish. I watched as my father went from stunned to letting out a huge fart then patting his big belly. "Gyhahaha that was a big one. Imma go sit my feet up honey, why don’t you go check on your brother."

I hadn’t noticed it but as I walked to check on Joel the light in my amulet began to dim. Joel had really begun to embrace his role as my "little" brother . He was playing games, of course the only games he could play were those meant for young kids. I could tell he needed a change from the way his onesie sagged in the back and the faint smell but I didn’t feel like it so I let him sit in it.

“I’m tryna play games! Don’t bother me go let dad kiss you or something!” He took his pacifier out to say and pouted.

“Whatever little bro.” I said annoyed. I went back to find my dad with his feet up on the coffee table watching tv with a beer in hand.

"there you are son URRP." my dad said motioning for me to come give him a hug and a kiss. "Come give me some sugar then get started on dinner, pops is hungry"

I kissed him then groaned as he burped in my face, I got back his belly but I wasn’t a fan of his lazy attitude. I’d need to make another change. I looked to my amulet and noticed its regular glow had dimmed, when I tried to make a change nothing happened. Drat, I’d have to wait for it to recharge meaning my dad was stuck like this.

For the next couple of days my dad would get home from work and toss of his work clothes in exchange for an unwashed wife beater. He’d then kick up on the couch and drink beer, leaving me to cook in clean. I also had to take over the responsibilities of taking care of Joel which was smelly and unfun. At the end of the day my dad would get into our bed and fart up a storm, laughing and saying it was part of being old. The only solace I had was that when he wasn’t being a lazy slob he was great in bed if you know what I mean. Basically things were sorta a mess but I could tell the amulet was slowly regaining power, so I left it in my drawer to gain continue charging.

———

end note:

hope you guys enjoyed the sequel to my last story if you guys are enjoying it leave a comment, let me know if you have any story ideas. What would you like to see next, maybe a part 3?

should Mike continue to use the amulet or maybe his dad Travis will find it. Or perhaps even Joel could find it and get his revenge? Lemme know!!!